


Shadows of the Dawn

by Lady_Clow, WoodenDeer



Series: Lex of Duality [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Instability, Noctis Lucis Caelum Lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28483038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Clow/pseuds/Lady_Clow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodenDeer/pseuds/WoodenDeer
Summary: Despite our expectations, we were given one more chance. The sun was up, daemons were gone, humanity survived the Darkness, but everything faded compared to our main, most important gift – Noctis stayed with us. The rightful King returned to Eos to lead us towards the dawn like it meant to be. But delighted with the newborn hopes, we were blinded by this light and couldn't see the face of our real enemy. The truth, as it turned out, was hidden in the shadows that always follow the dawn.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Lex of Duality [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086365
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This work has come a long way – from a higgledy-piggledy snippet to the huge plan which finally transformed into the biggest story ever developed in my life. I'm proud to share its creation with my wonderful co-author and partner WoodenDeer without whom there wouldn't have been a single word on the first sheet of this fic. This story has grown to such an extent that we had to include it in a series where other works will appear in the future, one way or another connected with the main one.
> 
> Before we start, we would like to warn you that this fic will contain graphic descriptions of violence including sexual. We will update additional tags as the story progresses and will post warnings in the beginning notes of each chapter where required.
> 
> Everyone is welcomed to come and share your opinions and ideas at our [FFXV Discord server](https://discord.gg/7s24mdqqH6).
> 
> Hope you'd enjoy your reading!

Gladiolus was crying.

Last time tears clouded his vision in childhood which seemed so far away. That day he was still a little boy, with a sword in his hand – a simple, wooden but dear thing. A boy who imagined being a knight in the shining armor that reflected the sun rays and blinded his enemies, making his job of chopping their heads off far easier. He barely imagined the sword would slip from his hand and bump right onto his toes, causing those aforementioned tears to stream down his face in a not so virile flow.

Those days stayed in the past, and the memories preserved in his heart. It was easier to think about tears he had spilled in his childhood than about those he shed a few days ago, warmed by the flame of their last campfire. Tears of anguish provoked by the sole realization how unfairly soon he would lose someone important to him after just getting him back.

He had watched that certain someone – his friend, his King – leaving them, knowing that time it was for real, but tears didn’t come. Probably because he still had refused to accept such an ending, but when he lowered his aching body onto the steps of the Citadel after the fight with daemons, his eyes felt damp.

Gladio didn’t try to comprehend the real reason. Whether those tears were from the Scourge’s miasma, which had floated in the atmosphere menacingly not long ago (and honestly, it damaged flesh and bone, no wonder it might have harmed his eyes), or something else finally raised its head inside him. He didn’t guess; he sat there, beside his friends, and waited for the dawn of a new day. The day they had waited for so many years. But when it was on a doorstep, it heralded victory alongside heartbreak.

Their vacuum of broken thoughts collapsed after Prompto let out a sigh so stricken, it pierced Gladio’s chest like his bullets. His palm felt cumbersome when he placed it on Prompto’s shoulder – the travesty of consolation with which he couldn’t convince himself either. The other shuddered under the touch.

Prompto tried to say something but his throat locked any sound within. He had to gulp twice before continuing, “How long will it take, what do you think?”

Gladio, if asked, would have said he tried not to think at all at the very moment, but that was not a passerby or just a barely familiar buddy to whom he could throw a vague pretext. It was his close friend who had tasted misery like many couldn’t in several lives straight. In any way, Gladio didn’t have a soothing response for him. So he came up with the truth instead, “I don’t know.”

Prompto nodded as if he anticipated the exact reply and started rubbing his palms together in a nervous gesture he had never had before. Except for the last ten years, maybe.

So they waited more because it was everything they could do. They waited – till the world around them went timeless; till the air suffocated alike the Scourge did; till they could wait no more. The string of tension snapped, and it was Ignis who got up eventually. Among them three, it was always he who rushed to Noct first.

“It’s time,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. They didn’t ask why he was so sure about it. He wasn’t. But among them three he also was the resolutest. When Gladio and Prompto rose, Ignis had already been climbing the stairs without help he didn’t ask once. As if the horrendous duty waylaying them ahead bestowed him the new vision.

When they reached the hall, Gladio almost expected the Lucii to appear and attack them again. He remembered Noctis’ voice – deep and resounding, yet calm, like the air before a storm – talking to his ancestors in a way which showed: he was equal, if not higher, mightier, stronger.

Braver. Because they bided for two thousand years for the boy to become a sacrifice for their transgressions. The boy who needed to slay the monster they were too scared to destroy themselves.

Gladio had struck them down with pleasure but it changed nothing. Noctis held his head high and walked into that damned room. They followed him as always and then they couldn’t.

And never saw him again.

The corridors of the Citadel raised a hollow echo of their steps, following them to the throne room where their King awaited. 

Lifeless. Empty. Dead.

Ignis touched the doors leading to Noct, and Gladio’s mouth went dry. He thanked the gods for it, because otherwise something pitiful would have escaped his lips. Something he wouldn’t have been able to stop.

The door creaked and the three of them stepped inside with the same dread at the bottom of their hearts. There was a vacant throne—

—and two bodies at its foot.

During the crushing, terrible eternity neither of them moved, including Ignis who probably sensed something wrong. And ‘wrong’ was one way to put it. Something happened next – and their knees nearly hit the stone.

One of the bodies moved. It rolled on its side, pressed its hands against the floor and sat up. That body was clad in the black suit. It had black hair and it didn’t need to look behind for Gladio to see its eyes.

He knew they were blue.

“Noct,” Prompto exhaled; Gladiolus couldn’t say a word.

Ignis’ hand shot up and clutched Gladio’s shoulder in an iron grip, but he paid it no mind. Through the blur in his eyes he absorbed the sight of his King, alive and there with them. 

Noctis.

 _Noct is here._

Despite distance Gladio saw how his shoulders tensed at the mention of his name. He slowly, carefully touched his own head, Gladio didn’t see blood but there could be more than it; he weakly grunted, slightly lurching forward from malaise which Gladio definitely didn’t ideate, and started turning back to them—

—only to freeze stock-still when the second body moved nearby. Gladio’s attention switched to it unwillingly, and all the previous plans of checking up his marvelously survived friend for injuries were gone in an instant.

Because the second body was a man too and that man’s hair was red. Just like with Noctis, Gladio didn’t need to see his face to know the color of his eyes.

They were golden. And he _hated_ them.

He couldn’t really say how but at a moment’s notice he grew before Noctis like a fortress, shielding him from the monster that was unacceptably close. It flinched; those putrid yellow goggles widened.

“Ah,” the daemon, which should have been dead with the rest, breathed audibly, cringing when Gladio threw his arm to the side and summoned the Sword of the Tall. It appeared in the light blue flash, its sound reverberated through halls, mirroring Gladiolus’ own jubilance. _The Royal Arm_. The physical evidence of life running through his King’s veins.

Noct was alive and Gladio was his sworn Shield.

He just needed to protect him again.

He felt rather than noticed Prompto and Ignis appearing beside him and jerked his head twice without looking away:

“Iggy, stay with Noct. Prom, you’re with me.” Gladio rotated the sword in the obvious threat. “You,” he snarled at the monster, an even clearer warning. It winced. “Don’t move.”

“How…” Prompto whispered as if from under Gladio’s skin, that tight he huddled to him. When Gladio cast him a quick glance, his hands were clenching the pistol aimed at the evil. They were shaking. “How is it possible?”

“Noct, stay behind me!” Ignis commanded after the stir that should have been Noct moving. From the following sound, he summoned his own weapon. “Gladio, what is he doing?”

“He’s gawking at me,” Gladio hissed. He barely held back from spitting on its face, unable to control his wrath from the fact _that damned vermin_ was alive. Not only that – it was sitting near Noct, tainting the very ground around him with its presence and looking like a poor, wretched man. There was confusion and fear coating its face, but Gladio couldn’t care less.

He couldn’t believe it found them so stupid to give into that stunt. 

“I can’t believe it,” he said, “You must be dead.”

There had to be more, something they had overlooked, something they didn’t notice, overwhelmed with Noct’s return, and they probably already were falling into the deadly trap the Accursed had contrived for them, and it was their last seconds to see through the facade of unheard luck— 

Or there was none, and it was their best and only chance. 

He stepped forward, pointing the blade right at the daemon. It stiffened, eyes full of a naked emotion. A hitching sound: it stopped breathing. Gladio intended to never let it breathe ever again.

“Do it!” Prompto’s arm clasped Gladio’s uniform, and he pleaded. “Gladdy, do it, please! Now!”

He didn’t have to ask.

“You shouldn’t have messed up with us!” The ugly grimace twisted the Shield’s face as he aimed for the blow. His last hunches disappeared. “Fuck, just die already!”

 _ **He is mine**_.

Suddenly the voice surged through the air. It stabbed Gladio’s skull with blunt needles and made him go motionless. Every syllable felt like a clash of the Royal Arms against each other, and in the following silence Noctis’s countenance seemed harsh and unyielding when Gladio turned around. Noctis was looking right at him.

“What do you…” Prompto tried, but his voice broke down to a rale as if strangled. Either way, Noctis didn’t spare him a glance, no, he looked past him, past even Gladio. He looked at—

“Ardyn,” a single word tore the tautness between them.

That was it, the name neither of them wanted to recall or hear. 

“Come here.”

Gladiolus whipped his head, watching the one in question with menacing glare, _Don’t you dare_ , yet the monster – _Ardyn_ – didn’t reciprocate. His eyes were locked on Noctis and Noctis only and beside terror there was something else in them.

Klutzy and hesitatingly, he started lifting himself from the floor. Just when he stood up fully, Gladio managed to see the whole picture. Ardyn looked amiss. Long hair instead of cutted short, skin sickly pasty and covered in sweat and dirt. He also was partially naked, save for tattered trousers and some piece of cloth hanging from his waist. As he stepped forward Gladio forgot everything about his odd appearance and twitched in urgency to stop him.

Ardyn backed away so abruptly he swayed, nearly losing his footing. His eyes darted to Noctis and stayed riveted to him. Noctis’ own face wore the same strenuous expression; when Ardyn made another tentative step, Noct lifted his hand towards him and it worked like a spell.

Eager stagger and near stumble over himself, it was about Ardyn rushing to Noctis. As his trembling hand touched Noct’s fingers his knees finally buckled. Gladio watched how the Immortal Accursed, the blight of their Star and the greatest bane of their lives, let out a wet shuddering sigh, crawling beside their King, and felt like barfing. Nothing made any sense, none of it.

When Noctis tugged him closer, Ardyn pressed himself against his shoulder, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and giving away another sound that could have been called a real fucking _whimper_.

“It’s okay,” Noctis’ hands circled the shivering body, palms started rubbing his spine. “Shh, it’s okay, no need to be afraid.”

Prompto’s wide-eyed stare bored holes in them – matching the one Gladio had – while Ignis’s face was clouded with bewilderment. He shuffled closer to Gladio, opened his mouth but said nothing. Perhaps for the first time his oratory betrayed him. Not when their King’s quiet murmurs of comfort rendered them speechless.

Prompto seemingly mustered all his residual strength to blurt at last:

“Noct. What the fuck.”

Probably his voice was too loud because it made Ardyn flinch again. He shrunk in a tight ball against Noct’s shoulder. Gladio caught the way his face morphed into a mask of suffering before he hid it in the nook of Noct’s neck.

Something was _definitely_ fucked up there.

Some emotion, quick and hazy, flickered across Noctis’ face, but Gladio didn’t understand it. He saw how Noctis raised his head towards Prompto and his blue eyes were dark with fervor neither of them was able to decipher.

He maintained silence for what felt like a torture eternal but eventually spoke to them. He glanced from Prompto to Gladio and Ignis before stopping on the trembling body in his arms.

“Yeah,” he said in a slow, gruff voice. A wry smile curved his lips. “I’m back.”

“You should’ve...” Prompto immediately started but couldn’t proceed. Gladio saw the way his jaw worked, yet nothing came out of his mouth again. Instead he raised his hand to probably scratch the back of his head in the troubled gesture but forgot he held a gun.

It bumped against his temple, making him yelp and drop it. The pistol clattered on the marble floor so loudly even Ignis flinched... not to mention Ardyn, who tried to make himself even smaller, curling against Noctis’ side. Who, in turn, hushed him promptly, murmuring something unintelligible. 

There were questions they wanted to ask – Gladiolus knew others two too well to doubt that. Most of all, though, they wanted to touch Noct, making sure he wasn’t a trick of their minds, that he was there, safe, sound and unharmed. In any other situation Gladio would have been the first one to haul Noct to his feet and engulf him in a bear hug... but that particular situation stopped him as well as the other men.

Noctis held Ardyn in his arms and looked ready to strike anyone who risked to take the man away from him. Including the three of them.

The silence was impossible to stomach it any longer. Gladio needed to ask. He needed to hear his own voice at least, otherwise his suspicion that everything was just a feverish dream would eat his brain, turning him into something mindless and feral. Something he used to fight during those ten years prior. However, when he opened his mouth, he didn’t make it.

Noct’s cheek seemed a shade lighter than the rest of his body. Probably he felt some change too for he looked up at the enormous hole in the Throne Room’s left wall, and the three of them, as if following the unsaid order, traced the end of his gaze.

The sky’s color rapidly grew lighter. It took Gladio a second to catch up with what was happening, and once he did it, his heart hammered against his ribcage in hope.

“Is that...” Ignis began, the waves of disbelief crossed his face one after another, and Gladio knew he saw it too. In an unsteady whisper, Ignis named it aloud as if wanting to challenge the reality, “The dawn.”

The pitch-black wall, which covered their land for ages, was torn by the sun rays. The sun, which Noctis released with his sacrifice and then returned to see it by himself.

He saw it and did it with a small, sheepish smile. All of a sudden he seemed just like his young self – unbothered, unburdened, unconcerned. Their friend more than their King they loved so much that the perspective of losing him forever had broken them apart.

He was back and he was smiling and the gradually rising sun bathed his face in the faint light, making him look so, so young that Gladio wanted to cry again. That time he knew there wouldn’t be excuses for tears. And he would welcome them.

But despite his desperate wish to just get lost in the soul-warming view of the sunrise, Gladio couldn’t forget the reason why colors seemed dimmer than they should be and the warmth faded away.

Noctis inhaled the dusty air, his eyes fluttered shut for a second. When he opened them again, he straightened up a bit, placing both palms on Ardyn’s shoulders who was still clinging to him.

“Look, the sun is up,” Noctis called with a smile, which hadn’t changed even when Ardyn slowly lifted his head to peer at him. “It’s okay, don’t worry. Look.”

From Gladio’s point he saw only the side of Ardyn’s face, but he didn’t miss the moment he turned towards the hole in the wall. He did it in the inhibited way – seemed like he still was in some kind of transe, or, more possibly, was faking it all. But whatever was happening there, Noctis didn’t look alarmed or suspicious – his expression was kind and dedicated to Ardyn. Gladio didn’t understand.

Then Noctis shifted and got up, reaching with both hands for Ardyn, who, in turn, stretched out his own the instant Noctis began to rise. As their palms entwined Noctis helped him on his feet. Bare feet, Gladio noted.

Ardyn wavered slightly, and Noctis steadied him with a firm grip without abandoning his cordial expression or careful moves. He smiled like that only back then – only at the three of them and his father. Ardyn shouldn’t have been on the receiving end of that smile. Never.

The daybreak burned in the full force, its light scattering around and casting long shadows between rocks. Noctis turned to it and let out a shaking laugh. Gladio thought him relieved if not happy, but he still feared to guess for sure. Even if his hope that everything wasn’t just a cruel joke of his imagination was in the full blossom.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” Noctis asked then – asked Ardyn, and it was the first time the latter tried to open his mouth.

At first nothing came out. He tried and failed, eyes darting between Noctis and the smashed wall. Dawn permeated the whole room with coral hues, but it did nothing to Ardyn’s skin.

Noctis awaited patiently, while Ardyn searched for proper words or, more accurately, his voice. When he found it at last, it resembled a quiet whistle of wind.

“...Yes, it is.”

His eyes were on Noctis.

———————❖———————

The sun was out and it felt warm – just like all those years ago. He didn’t dream he’d ever see it again, knowing and believing that it wasn’t possible for him to feel its touch. Yet there he was, exulting in light, beside those ones who waited for that miracle as much as he did.

Beside _the one_ who had made sure the miracle would stay only a feeble wish. But it came true, and the world woke up after years of doom – clean and reborn. The world, full of opportunities and chances, with time ticking anew.

The time, which stopped for the entire humanity and for him too because of _the one_ who stood within a mere reach, watching the dawn with them, basked in the sun’s warmth, fascinated and unharmed by it.

The time he and that damned monster would have plenty of from the very moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WD: The editor is ashamed of how long it has taken to polish this chapter (spoiler: longer than... months, and most fixes were done in the last week, of course). But now it's here, with 11k words and the deeper insight of the bros' thoughts~ Hope 20 new pages will be worth your waiting ;з

“Do you see what I see?”

Prompto’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, although frantic and incredulous. Gladiolus doubted his own would have been any better. He resisted another glance towards Noct, who currently busied himself with checking Ardyn for possible injuries: he was asking the whole bunch of questions in that concerned tone of his, not breaking their specific embrace at least for a second. His attention was dedicated solely to Ardyn, but somehow the order was clear as day: _Do not interrupt_. The royal retainers could only watch, useless and abandoned.

The picture unfolding before them was surreal enough for Prompto to freak out and drag them to the side for the small talk. Noctis barely noticed their hasty retreat, too occupied with his new task. The ‘task’, on the other hand, did not take eyes off him all the while and seemed confused as much as inoffensive. Yet.

“If we ain’t stoned or pegging out somewhere ‘mongst our own shit in fever, then yes, we all see the same thing.” Gladio didn’t hold on his voice, didn’t see the point in it. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk. But he also could do nothing that would bring some benefits for them, e.g. tearing the daemon off his liege and knock some sense into the latter – gently, they didn’t need to damage his head any more. His behavior had already given them ideas.

“So this is happening,” Ignis marked impassionately as if things weren’t rolling into hell right from the start and they didn’t have a hand to halt or retard them. Gladio was almost curious in which direction his gears were spinning because his own were close to conk out.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not drugged or dying… Yeah, totally. Are you? And you? Okay, this one figured out.” Prompto took a deep whistling breath and continued to whisper, that time with a distinguished note of hysteria, “But what on Eos is going on? I mean… Noct is back, that’s cool, frigging awesome, but… Why is he…”

He didn’t have to end the line.

“That’s just weird.”

“Say that again. It’s suspicious.”

“Let’s not rush to judgment when we lack the insight from the other side.” 

All three of them turned to Noctis once again. Gladio managed to catch the way Prompto frowned and bit his lower lip, but it was the moment Noctis spoke again and Gladio’s focus was drawn back to him.

“Hey,” his eyes were on them for a change. “Are you guys okay?”

Only when Ignis started belatedly answering, Gladio realized he and Prompto had gone frozen, paralyzed with uncertainty, with their mouths open. ...And what were they supposed to say on that?

“Yes, we’re…” Ignis paused, his arm darting towards his visor in an involuntary gesture. He finished rather optimistic, “We are quite alright. Thanks.”

Noctis said nothing to it, only nodded slowly, contented with the answer. Ignis, however, looked like he wanted to proceed, he made a firm step forward – and Ardyn immediately recoiled, so loud the advisor’s head twitched to his direction. Noctis’ face darkened. The hitch stopped Ignis in his tracks but didn’t take his voice away.

“Noctis.” He breathed once. Twice. “How?”

Ignis wanted to ask more, that part was evident. His brain was bombarded with questions as much as Gladio’s or Prompto’s own were since the second they saw Noctis being alive. All those ‘whats’ and ‘hows’ and ‘whens’, but most importantly one particular ‘ _why_ ’ which burned out their throats inside with every glance at the Accursed. 

“I don’t know,” was everything Noctis said at first. He sounded inarticulately from apparent fatigue. Whatever happened on _the other side_ he told them about that fateful night, it took a heavy toll on him. “I was… there,” he twirled his hand in the air, vaguely designating the realm he was talking about. He sighed, meeting Ardyn’s gaze, “Both of us were. We fought and—” Noctis cut himself off, going silent for a long time, leaving them guessing what horrors met him at the Beyond.

Gladio narrowed his eyes at Ardyn. It seemed the monster was not satisfied with their battle in reality but dragged Noct into another one in _that place_ too. Wherever it might have been, Ardyn’s scheme worked. Just like before, he forced Noct to go through the suffering all over again. Mercilessly denying him his well-deserved liberation and peace among those ones who waited for him with open arms. Taking away the last pieces of relief Noct had a full right to. Mocking at the kindness Noctis showed to him while pretending to be innocent. 

‘Like hell he’ll get what he wants,’ Gladio promised himself. ‘He’ll get nothing. I’ll make sure of this.’ 

Before the Shield’s train of glum would have led him to utterly ominous lands, it was drawn up by the King’s renewed speech:

“I really don’t know what happened,” Noctis shrugged with one shoulder, then crossed arms over his chest. “But the gods somehow decided to send me, uh, _us_ back. The only thing they more or less explained was that Ardyn is clean now. So-o...”

“Clean?” Ignis repeated, his brows drawn together. “Could it be that you mean ‘clean’ as if—”

“No Scourge, yeah,” Noctis nodded, even though they all knew Ignis couldn’t see the gesture. “He’s harmless now.”

Gladio sincerely doubted it. A gruff snort on the left told him Prompto shared his apprehension. But Noctis… Noctis sounded genuine in his abrupt belief that Ardyn could be trusted. Either he revised his previous attitude towards the man who was still technically their enemy or something view- and life-changing happened in the Astral plane.

Well, after all, the three of them always knew Noct wasn’t very good at people.

“I feel like we should sit and talk properly. After the decent rest,” Ignis suggested after a moment of silence. They reunited not so long ago but Gladio had lost count of barren pauses hanging in the air between them.

Noctis gawked at him motionlessly for a full minute, quite possibly contemplating the idea but maybe not, fuelling Gladio’s conjecture that he was still a bit stunned after everything that fell on him in the short amount of time. Detachedly, he thought if the prolonged separation was to blame for all perplexity he had about Noctis’ true feelings. Or the Prince they all knew and loved vanished in the past. He couldn’t have stayed the same – not with the burden recent events left on him. It caused a rush of protectiveness to course through Gladio’s every pore. He was seconds away from telling Noct to let them handle whatever troubled him and just simply go to sleep, the request he shouldn’t have insisted on before. 

Nevertheless, it wasn’t an open question whether Noct would listen, so he said nothing of the sort, his frustration shoved deep inside. If Noctis agreed they needed to talk – they would go and talk. Gladio anticipated to walk out of that darned Throne Room that almost became their King’s tomb.

Outside the new world was slowly spreading its wings from a decade of deep slumber. Gladio wondered what his little sister thought, seeing the forgotten sun.

“Sounds good to me,” Noctis concluded at last, throwing his hand in his hair like wanting to rip it off. He ruffled long bangs and winced for some reason (Gladio’s hands itched to check him on concussion, it would explain a lot) but it quickly gave way to exhaustion. It started getting more prominent in Noct’s features, creating deep lines on his brow, punctuating hollows under his eyes and wrinkles in the corners of his mouth. He barely resembled himself looking like that.

“All of us?” Prompto added with the heavy amount of foreboding in his voice. Gladio watched him piercing Ardyn with raving mistrust. Well, no one would blame him – the monster earned it.

Whether Ardyn understood the meaning behind Prompto’s words or sentiments in his eyes was unknown. He only shrinked more and clutched Noctis’ sleeve with his hand as if seeking protection like a child might cling to an adult. Gladio felt a swell of his irritation – was Ardyn going to use Noctis’ sudden graciousness to bolster his own security? An act totally in his tone.

It was maddening how Noct fell into his trap like that. It had to happen only because he was too overwhelmed by anything and still couldn’t think clearly. Gladio hoped he would come to his senses after the good ol’ snooze and they would deal with the monster like it should be.

Noctis side-eyed Ardyn who absolutely wasn’t keeping proper distance – he seriously evaluated the idea of melting himself into Noct’s body, hiding from the world he was scared of. Or more likely neatly playing his role; Gladio intended to keep count of the barest inconsistencies in his demeanor. Either way Noct took in his pitiful appearance and started speaking again, the heaviness in his voice outweighed Prompto’s suspicion.

“Yes, all of us. Let’s go.”

At the last part Ardyn perked up – yellow eyes searching Noct’s face like he spoke with him specifically. The scene of obedience to follow Noctis’ every command.

Prompto’s scowl morphed into a grimace, but whatever he wanted to say, he kept it to himself, the song well known to Gladio. Though the blondie was first to head toward the exit and push open massive doors single-handedly. 

———————❖———————

The hallways were empty when they finally left the Throne Room. Pale light of a long hoped-for dawn brightened specks of dust floating in the air but aside from that the walls and the floor seemed tidy as if maids only swiped them an hour or so before.

As if there wasn’t a ten years gap between someone crossing over those hallways.

They set their feet there for the first time in years, accompanying Noctis on his duty less than a day ago. While Ignis remained adamantine, Prompto was first to show open unease at the parting insides of the Citadel. Gladio related to him, he was afraid to enter the halls too – he dreaded the sight that might have greeted them in there: signs of destruction and corpses.

During the long years of waiting he was familiar with death and loss. People died around him – yesterday’s buddies crossed the safety of Lestallum’s walls only to never return. Elderly people died of age, young – from wounds or diseases. He knew death and yet he could not stand a thought of seeing lost souls of the Citadel.

More than once he wondered whether they haunted the place, trickling through it in phantasmal forms of white glow with their mouths opened in hollow cries no one could have heard. Whether they reached their shaking hands towards each other and collided in agonized embraces, disintegrating finally with no traces left after them.

He wondered whether his father was among them too.

No ghosts appeared when they finally stepped inside. No obscure silhouettes, no shadows, no voices – just grave silence apart from an echo of their steps. The same silence reverberated through the rooms once more and again it was the King they were following.

Gladio could only hope – and vouch for Ignis and Prompto as well – this time Noctis would stay for the day. For ever. They were determined to make sure of it.

“Um,” Prompto brushed off the silence full of dust and memories. “So… Wherever are we heading to?”

Noctis slowed in his step, eyes on a ceiling thoughtfully. Ardyn almost bumped into his shoulder but managed to steady himself, eyes downcast and hands slightly shaking. Moreso, his whole body was incessantly shaking and that was partially understandable, considering his half-naked appearance, but mostly just irked.

“Someplace comfy,” Noct declared and sighed exaggeratedly. “It’s hard to keep up, really. I’d kill for five minute of a doze.”

“Guess so,” the corner of Prompto’s mouth twitched in a sort of grin – still too dim and cursory. “That sounds really nice, actually. I think all of us can use some… whoa!”

He made a few steps forward, rounding the corner, and started back in surprise. Gladio dashed there to check, while Ignis asked Prompto what was that about.

 _That_ was a ‘bump in the road’. It sounded as understated as major was the scope of destruction the corridor struck with. Little was left of the passage since its outlines were buried under rocks that once formed the walls and ceiling. The glorious statues that adorned the interior in former times lay shattered into pieces – and they were made from the most solid granite – on top of each other, interspersing the cracked floor. The head of the one rested beneath Gladio’s foot, staring at him with its unseeing eyes; he stepped aside. Among the misshapen furniture and uprooted doors somehow only the giant bronze dragon stayed intact and prevented the whole storey from collapsing on their necks. Still, the breach to go further didn’t excel in the width, Gladio himself could have barely crawled through it. 

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. And they thought the building remained largely untouched by the war raging in Insomnia. Well, there was more inside than met the eye.

“We gotta do some cleaning first,” he pointed out, turning to others. He noticed Noct descending into his trademark sulk at hearing that – his much-anticipated rest should be delayed more.

“If you say so,” he sighed but it came out more like a rumble. “Anything is better than sprawling somewhere right here, on cold stones.”

“Oh?” Gladio raised an intentional unimpressed brow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Looks like someone’s softy today. Need a pillow under your royal butt, Highness?”

He expected Noct to bristle up like a stray cat; good-natured wisecracks never ceased to set him on the warpath, and if a malee was ill-timed in their situation, fighting spirit wouldn’t be redundant. A jab of disappointment and no less remorse stung Gladio when Noctis gave him nothing of the desirable reaction. The man rubbed his face, the long bangs of hair kept falling over his eyes. He blew them off exasperatedly.

“Only need a fine place to lie myself down,” he grumbled, scrubbing his face with both hands that time, and that was all. 

Gladio pushed all snarky comments further inside himself, biting on his tongue. It would do them no good drowning the moment in sarcasm. Their King needed comfort, and, in that case, it was crucial for his vitality.

“Let’s find it then,” Prompto declared within seconds, and after the agreeing nod by Ignis, they began breaking through the ruins.

Of course they did not bother to ask Ardyn.

———————❖———————

It was partially ruined hallway with a series of doors on both sides. Prompto scrutinized them critically, meditating on which one he should try. He was never in that part of the Citadel before – it was probably living quarters or other premises intended for… well, other things. Ignis told them, if he correctly remembered, that hallway might have rooms suitable for recuperation. After a decade being away from the place Prompto understood if he was wrong and there weren’t any beds or at least chairs behind those doors.

He moved to one door and gripped its handle. It made a soft clicking sound and started opening… the next second it creaked and crashed inwards with a loud thud. Prompto blinked down on his hand – a knob was still clutched tightly in it, torn from its base.

“The fuck was that?” Gladio called, peeking around the corner – he was gauging the adjoining hallway by his own.

“Not our room,” Prompto mumbled, bucking up from quick stupor.

Ignis was two doors ahead of him, the accident put him on the alert. Sometimes Prompto felt bad for the guy and his sensitive hearing, he and Gladio were far from the ideal of grace, not like Iggy himself. Ignis proceeded after a second or two – Prompto caught the way he started checking handles first to make sure they were bolted well. Heh.

In the middle of the movement, he paused, and raised a hand to his ear.

“Do you hear that?” he asked quietly, in that kind of quietness that hollered Something Is Not Right But Don’t Panic. Prompto’s brows twitched in worry. Every time Ignis talked about mysterious noises only he could hear, it spooked Prompto out aside with making him feel like an idiot. A deaf idiot. In the world of darkness perfect ears and intelligence were in higher regard than his perfect vision and faith in a better.

“That what?” Prompto tried to sound calm. He maybe failed. The sun was up, they didn’t need to sneak and jitter in fret any longer, right? It had to be mice or wind or something of the sort, not daemons as an example or… ghosts. It was unsettling enough they literally wandered through a desolate castle where people died with a zombie-vampire trailing at their heels, there was absolutely no necessity in following classical horror movie tropes further. “Seriously, what’s wro—”

“Something’s rustling,” it was Noct to answer him, and of course his answer didn’t do any good to Prompto’s nerves. He was turning his head around, looking for the source of the sound. Ardyn was stuck skin to skin with him, and Prompto noticed his startle from the hustle. His hand twitched at the start of rising, and his lips parted in an attempt to say something. He quickly decided against it, tucking his head back down and zoning out. Through some sixth sense, maybe, Noct detected his hesitation and eyed him from head to toe, “Ardyn. What?”

Ardyn jolted back to reality in a way that resembled a disturbed sleeper, eyes snapping up to Noct. His mouth opened then closed. He looked down again but Prompto saw his lips slightly moving.

‘And where is his vaunted silver tongue?’ Prompto suppressed the itch to roll his eyes when whatever Ardyn said was so quiet that no one could hear him, but apparently Noct did.

“Down there?” he pointed towards the floor as if he really distinguished something from the sough Ardyn occasionally let out.

“I agree, it’s definitely coming from beneath,” Ignis confirmed after a second of attentive listening, to Prompto’s dull vexation. “But I can’t interpret the sound…”

“I know it,” Noctis declared, surprising them. He started to pace along the hallway, the intense squint directed on this and that spot on the floor. Ardyn shadowed his steps. “It sounds familiar.”

‘What can be familiar in the coming-from-floor rustling?’ Prompto queried. Gladio joined them in the hall, strenuously making an impression he heard something too. “What does it sound like?” he asked, visibly taut. Prompto just tried to stay cool.

Noct’s expression went blank for a second before he said, “Slabs.”

Their possible questions were shouted down by the horrible gritting emanating from nowhere. It resembled a teeth grinding so much, Prompto yelped and grabbed whoever stood nearest to him. It happened to be Ignis who embraced him protectively, one arm free to summon a dagger _if it really was a castle monster coming for their souls and flesh, oh gods, what with all the shaking, didn’t they kill all the monsters before? Were some of them hiding in the Citadel? Didn’t they have their lord right there?_

It wasn’t a monster after all. It was a shift of the floor plates and it portended a spectacular collapse of the storey. And so it happened. Not so big of a distance parted them, but in the narrow corridor they barely had space to move, no words about darting to Noct to drag him away from the disappearing ground under his feet. It didn’t mean Prompto didn’t try, though. Still, he was too far away, they all were. He, Gladio, Ignis who cried out Noct’s name, they outlived apocalypse and swore to protect Noctis from any harm and they were ready to defeat any daemon threatening his safety. A wonky building somehow occurred to be the most serious enemy in their experience. Perhaps it was how they were supposed to lose their King, in the ludicrous accident, if not Ardyn snatching Noct and flashing behind their backs, away from the newly formed gap. The retainers swiftly changed the direction to not plummet themselves, Noctis was their goal again. 

“Noct!”

“Shit, Noct!”

“Highness, are you alright?!”

Noctis was panting, his eyes wide-open and face pale, seemingly taken aback but overall not hurt. His hands clasped Ardyn’s, and it was the moment when it clicked in Prompto’s brains. Ardyn saved Noct. Immediately it gave way to the seditious thought whether Ardyn somehow plotted it all, both the rockfall and Noct’s rescue, to find a means to their goodwill. Then Prompto resisted the desire to slap himself: it didn’t matter now! He glanced back and shivered. He could see the outlines of the room one floor below. That and the heap of rubble with sharp looking wires sticking out.

“I’m okay, guys,” Noct muttered at the two pairs of hands inspecting him in spite of his assurances. One circle of hands never left his side, even if Gladio and Ignis struggled to loosen it, and it was Ardyn’s. The look on his face belonged to the one of a dying animal when he stared at Noctis. “Instead of pawing me you could thank Ardyn,” Noct turned to him, and maybe his shining smile was what caused Ardyn’s agony to mellow. The trio didn’t say anything to him, but Noctis didn’t expect them to, too engrossed in shushing Ardyn’s erupting whimpers.

Ignis, the savior, came to dispel the awkwardness, “I highly recommend we take the opposite wing.”

“Seems like we won’t find anything apt for us there,” Gladio picked up on the hint. “Let’s scram. Don’t want any more accidents today.”

“Yeah, it was enough ventures for one day,” Prompto stiffly laughed, still jolted from what happened and _what could have happened_. When Noct ensured Ardyn wasn’t going to have hysterics (honestly Prompto wouldn’t rebuff to a couple of soothing nothings himself), they moved away from the gap and the floor itself, stepping accurately like on the minefield. Damn Haunted House. 

———————❖———————

“Let’s try out our chances here,” Ignis decided, pushing the door closest to him. Gladio nodded and beelined to the one at his left. 

They found another hallway in the grand maze called the Citadel, that time as far from the top and shaky structures as possible. If not Ignis and his flawless memory, they would have probably already been lost somewhere in the middle and even Noct wouldn’t have helped them. During their descent Prompto quipped that Noct would go nuts when they unearth his personal apartments (he held a little hope to exploit his game setup again one day). Prompto thought his assessments were reasonable: surely Noct didn’t want to stay in that monster killing house for longer than it was absolutely necessary, like it always had been. To his astonishment, Noct rebutted his joke and said he planned to live and rule from there. Like a real King was supposed to. He saw Gladio casting him baffled glances but he didn’t comment on it. Ignis expressed his approval, accompanied with a sigh of how much repair awaited them. One might assume it was totally okay for them that Noct finally _grew up_ to reside in the castle. But maybe sarcasm was ill-fitted and it was appropriate for Noct, _Noctis_ , to develop mature penchants, Prompto just continued to look at him like a fifteen years old by custom.

“Okay, I’ll take the right side then,” his informing was swallowed by the ubiquitous squeak of hinges. Prompto passed Ardyn, and the man curled even closer to Noct. By that time he was practically hiding in Noct’s side.

Prompto almost scrunched up his nose but forcibly distracted himself with the door. It would have done absolutely no good lashing out at Ardyn when Noct’s intentions towards him were, to put it mildly, unclear. The best option was to ignore him or view him as nothing more than another stone blocking their way. They will take care of it later, Noct came first.

As if Prompto was a pro at following best decisions.

A recent memory of Gladio growling at Ardyn flared up in Prompto’s mind and he gripped a handle more vigorously than intended. Prompto had asked him then – asked him to finish it. Even if it meant what he thought it should mean. He _wanted_ it and was terrified by these desires. Earlier it was easier, he could believe he left the past behind, that he became stronger than it. Moreover, it seemed as petty as it was pointless to hold a grudge against a prescribed deadman. But then – surprise, surprise! – Ardyn didn’t die and with his own hand crossed out Prompto’s plan item to become a better person, he even managed to make it worse. Not like otherwise was in his habits as far as Prompto was concerned. The fact was that Ardyn dwelled in his life when it was past time for him to finally begone and bury Weak Prompto peacefully with himself. But now those desires returned with doubled power, and he wasn’t sure they would just disappear. Maybe they shouldn’t.

Prompto hurried forward to avoid Ardyn getting in his sight field again but little avail. 

The door creaked, opening wider and thankfully staying on its hinges. He stepped in, glancing around the room – quick once-over told him it seemed more or less intact aside from a layer of dust on every surface, so thick that he clearly saw it from afar.

“Found something okayish here!” he called over his shoulder, not looking away from the upside down furniture. No beds, which was bad, but the present chairs seemed pretty perfect and without dust would be even better – good, undeniably. Aaand, uh, some funny abstract pictures on the walls to raise the mood, maybe?.. Not exactly the royal suites but tough times required modesty. 

“Oh?” Ignis appeared before him, quick and soundless like a shadow. Prompto knew he could not see the interior but offered nonetheless.

“Needs some quick cleaning first. You’re in?”

“Of course,” Ignis nodded readily and turned in Noct’s direction. “We’ll clean up the clutter and test the walls’ and floor’s stability, after it we may rest here. Could you wait for a bit, please?”

Noctis shrugged wordlessly. Prompto sent him an eloquent face, expecting him to finally kick in and say something. On the other hand, he didn’t want to push him by spelling on his sudden fallback – he could’ve only imagined the amount of Noct’s exhaustion if he forgot about Iggy’s disability.

The latter cocked his head to the side:

“Noct?”

That knocked Noct out of his trance or what it was, and he shook his head slightly as if clearing it. He nodded after a second but this time added a hoarse:

“Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

“Good,” Ignis smiled quickly and entered the room. Prompto glanced back at Noct – he was pressing his spine into a wall and a deep shadow clouded his face. His hand was tightly gripping his right knee in an attempt to mitigate pain in his joints. Prompto heard an alarm bell: it was not Noct’s bad leg which meant he probably obtained new threats to his health. Well, aside from being _dead_ for a while.

Even more of a reason to give him that chair and that was what Prompto devoted himself to.

———————❖———————

The room heavily smelled of grime. Chill in the air wafted from the cold corners and raised the hairs on Ignis’ nape. A shiver travelled down his spine and pulled the desire to hug his own shoulders from the depths of his mercifully alive soul. Strangely, he thought he lost it with the life of his King.

He waited for his heart to shut down on those steps, he even had made some preparations if it would have happened not figuratively. The world would have awakened but for the three of them it had meant the end, no turning back. Yet his heart continued to hammer against his ribs, and it bled and hurt more than ever. He was grateful it hurt. He didn’t want to return to the hazy automatism that was his life past years. With such a violently feeling organ the need in eyes seceded. 

Ignis glided to the left slowly, arm outstretched to feel the space in front of him. After Prompto’s report he estimated the extent of impending cleaning and found it not hopeless. Sure, if Ignis was asked, he would organize the proper sanitation of all quarters, but it was not the time or place, though hearing Noctis indicating his intentions of staying in the Citadel obliged them with perfunctory clean-up at the least. Might as well start from the room they were in. 

‘It feels awfully like the old times when I had to housekeep for Noct. Certain things never change,’ a touch of nostalgia surged up a big deal of memories inside Ignis’ head. Never could he imagine longing for dusting and washing. He didn’t cook intricate dishes for himself either, but the perspective of plunging into the kitchen routine soon filled him with warm anticipation. When things would be settled, he could arrange a humble festive table using cherished stocks such as ulwaat berries and arapaima roe, each of them deserved small indulgence and Noctis more than anyone…

Lost in the reverie, Ignis forgot to examine the surroundings and stumbled upon what he imagined was an armchair. It’d have gone down with a wallop if not Ignis had managed to balance it through pain in his leg. What bothered him more was the resulting hover of dust seeping inside his lungs. He coughed in a fit, reprimanding himself for distraction. It was too early for planning vacation when they just started working. Promises of delicious food shouldn’t attenuate his acuity.

Something rattled not far from him, followed by Prompto cursing under his breath but perceptibly for the blind man. Ignis turned towards him – picking the correct directions was one of his hard-learnt lessons.

“Everything’s okay?” No response. “Prompto?”

Another muffled bump before Prompto’s quick “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

Which of course didn’t sound like that. Ignis approached his location, the need of proximity pushed him extra steps forward. He felt a presence of another chair near his left hip but made no attempt to reach it. Sweeping up could wait, their emotions not. 

“I know it might be…” he paused, looking for the right word. Nothing was adequate to describe the whole situation. The simplest option seemed the most viable. “It’s hard.”

“I imagine,” Prompto snorted humorlessly. The loss of playfulness in his voice with which Prompto usually associated jagged Ignis’ ears worse than a shriek. Above and beyond, it came deeper, square to his core, where it could release its venom. It was so in Prompto’s style, Ignis thought, that he never hurt deliberately, but it performed just as fine. 

After a pause Prompto let out a tired sigh and ruffled his hair. “It’s just…”

“I know,” Ignis agreed when Prompto couldn’t finish. 

“Oh yeah? And what you _don’t_ know, smartass?” he asked quite rudely. Ignis held back his smile, feeling contradictory amused. Aging up, Prompto stopped locking up his temper behind self-deprecation and humouring and his occasional bite backs weren’t amiable whatsoever. He might not agree but the survival peeled him off from the rotten layers, exposing the true kernel of his – steel and will. 

“I _know_ ,” Ignis stressed just to tease his companion a bit, “that you’re trying to stay closer to Noct but simultaneously keep distance from Ardyn, which, naturally, leads you into flailing back and forth, and you’re stammering. I know you want to clear the atmosphere but doubt whether your banter is well-timed. You suppress the urge to grab me or Gladio at every sudden sound, unsuccessfully. The Citadel’s vast unnerves you, and I admit its turns and forks are similar to dungeons. Noctis acts rather cold towards us while murmuring comforts to Ardyn, and you find it unfair. Many things about him upset you, actually. But you overthink it by blaming yourself for it, your nasty habit.” 

At some point Ignis reduced the space between them completely and gave him the touch they both so yearned. Prompto made protesting grumbles at Ignis’ fingers entwining into his hair strands, but soon massaging rubs quietened down his aggravation and headache, no doubt. After some time staying like this, Prompto drew his wrists aside, signifying it was enough. “Okay, you got me there,” he laughed silently, his abrupt breaths so much like sobs, “like, on all fronts.” 

Ignis let him lean on his shoulder. Prompto’s words were just under his ear but still barely audible as if he was afraid to say them. “I must be happy. Come on, we thought we lost Noct forever, and I don’t know about you but my heart stopped at least three times since… well, everything.”

“And yet…” Ignis continued for him, not pressing but encouraging to say more. It was Prompto’s turn to speak.

“It’s hard,” Prompto buried himself further into Ignis’ side, voice breaking. “I should be overjoyed and I feel… it’s… S-shit, I feel like…”

“Like you’ve been cheated,” Ignis finished softly, coming for help despite himself. He needed to say it aloud for his own sake.

“Yes.”

“And guilty, because you’re betraying your friend with thoughts like these.”

“Right...”

Prompto gripped his hand, seeking assurance or maybe even forgiveness, and for a moment they stood in each other’s arms in stillness.

“How are you so good at reading me?” Prompto eventually asked, voice slightly gruff as if he was pushing back tears for quite some time.

Ignis didn’t disguise his smirk that time. “You’re just this transparent,” but what he truly meant was “We feel the same.”

This earned him a wounded “Hey!” and an elbow jab. Ignis chuckled but squeezed Prompto’s shoulder a bit longer.

“We’re going to be fine, Prom. We will handle everything,” he told him, trying to share all the confidence he felt through their embrace. “As always.”

“Yeah,” Prompto said after a beat of silence, and this time there was a hint of a smile in his intonations. It immediately went down to the whine “I don’t want to leave this room.” 

Ignis didn’t allow his companion’s complaint to affect his tenacity. “I’m terribly sorry to disappoint you, but we still have to finish here, call for His Majesty, offer him our modest luxuries and give him a talking-to after his mood cleared. And then we contact Marshall.”

“Oh, shit, Cor!” Prompto cried out and hid his face in Ignis’ chest. The latter chuckled and hugged his head. “How are we supposed to explain him _this_?”

“I’m sure we’ll find the words.” At least he hoped so. “By the way, how are things going with _Silver Fox the Immortal_ —” 

“Oh no, no, no,” Prompto jumped off him. “Don’t ask me. We aren’t going to discuss it now. _Nuh-uh_.”

The door creaked right when Ignis prepared to unleash the irony force, Gladio’s voice entering the room:

“You good out there?” 

“We are,” Ignis smiled in his direction, Prompto’s dignity spared. “In fact, we ended up tidying the place. More or less,” he added the last part solely to allay his displeasure. Perhaps one stop there wouldn’t give them pneumoconiosis. 

“Yep! Leville staff is ready to receive honored guests,” Prompto confirmed, a little out of breath.

“Good,” Gladio snorted, opening the door wider. His next call sounded louder and as if directed out of the room, “Someone is getting impatient here.”

“Someone could try to lend a hand to make it faster!” Prompto, too, addressed the missing member of their group, surly but as Ignis knew without passion behind it.

Ignis heard Gladiolus’ tramps, then the pair of lighter footsteps followed. One of them sounded unsteady – Ardyn, unmistakably. Judging by the quick update Prompto and Gladio gave him on the man, he presented a stark contrast to his smarmy Chancellor persona. At least in appearance, but Ignis discerned other differences too. No theatrical gestures or waxing poetic, actually very little of phrasing and even his voice sounded weak, no oppressing aura or intrusions in personal space except for Noctis’, and no strolling put on display either.

Gladio told him Ardyn was not wearing any shoes, yet Ignis heard him moving nonetheless. He was limping rather heavily, and Ignis couldn’t tell did he have chronic pain before or not. The Chancellor’s gait seemed so smooth and liquid-like, it didn’t seem that his feet touched the ground, more like the man floated through air. Frankly speaking, there wasn’t even a trace of his past self in that new shape, and each of them felt high-strung because of it. Never knowing what to expect.

Ignis reminded himself not to make hasty conclusions, everything they saw might be worse in reality or the opposite to what they imagined, especially when they were scarcely positive about anything. Constraining their way of thinking and dwelling on old grudges would not bring them any practical profit, if anything, it would only cloud their heed and impose unwanted fidgeting. Caution should not border on bias.

Ignis had a vague conjecture Noct hadn’t told them everything for whatever reason he deemed necessary and it complicated the situation exponentially. It changed nothing, though. Until the new information arrived, from him or somewhere else, Ardyn remained their enemy – a threat to Noct’s life – but that time Ignis knew he and two others would make sure to protect their King properly and for sure. In any way.

———————❖———————

Noctis shuffled towards the nearest chair and flopped onto it with the groan of a rusty wheel. Gladiolus observed how the gamut of spiritual liberation spilled over his face in the span of seconds: torment, enervation, relief, rapture, approval, content and absolute feline laziness at the peak. He closed his eyes, stretched his legs and sighed with a blissful smile, looking like neither fire nor flood would move him from his roost for the next millennium.

Gladio couldn’t help his grin from splitting his face in two at that performance. Prompto’s expression matched his own like a twin, while Ignis’ mimic wrinkles smoothed out for once in a while. How little the four of them needed to be happy, just one kingly rump comfortably settled.

“Enjoying small mercies, aren’t ya?” Gladio chucked at Noct’s another pleased sigh. The answer by itself.

Gladio shook his head, his grin growing bigger as well as cheer. He would have been feeling even better if not the one particular _but_ that stuck to the side of Noct’s chair like a mud splotch. Ardyn, who else could inspire Gladio for more and more lyric scorns, awkwardly clinged to the armrest and looked at loss with what to do with himself. Well, Gladio sure as hell wasn’t dying to offer him a seat, not to mention there were only so many vacant places – one for Prompto, one for Ignis and one for himself, all taken with no boding freeing. Gladio had no problems with compunction from the thought that Ardyn had to sit on the floor. Chancellor easily went without lodging back when they shared the caravan; if the daemon spent the whole night outside and carried off without a moan, then the current limited version would manage no less excellent, that one didn’t even require non-stop watch after his fickle dislocation.

The relative peace didn’t last long: something grumbled – a violent but muffled sound, startling all of them right on cue. Noct deigned to open his eyes and glanced at them in question.

“Wha— Are we gonna collapse again?!” Prompto wildly whirled his head at the proceeding uproar which enhanced suspiciously close to their band.

“Nah, doesn’t sound like it,” Gladio put a hand on his knee to prevent him from the sudden starting. Just in case he was right and they needed to get out of there but carefully. 

When the gurgle repeated again, even louder, Gladio figured out where it came from. And the meaning behind it.

Ardyn’s eyes were about to pop when his stomach made another angry rumble. He gripped it with both hands as if trying to hold back what monster sat inside him and wanted to break through. He practically jumped when that only resulted in an especially blaring groan. Ardyn turned to Noctis, and Gladio swore the cry _What is it? Am I dying?_ appeared in his eyes in huge fiery letters. It was like he had no damndest idea someone’s body could do something like that. It seemed to terrify him rather strongly.

“Hm? What’s there?” Noctis grasped the chair handles and hauled himself up in one swift move.

A gush of emotions twisted Ardyn’s features into the mask of helpless fear. He made a tiny _Ah_ as his belly kept protesting. Noct blinked. “Oh. You’re hungry?”

Ardyn watched him with such raw uncertainty as if Noctis was talking in a foreign language. He glanced onto his abdomen and then back at Noctis before finally mumbling “Am I?”

Gladio felt the twinge of confusion. ‘Am I?’, indeed. Shouldn’t he be able to run empty however long he wanted by analogy with sleep? He never saw daemons eating like other animals, and he heard somewhere that stuffing them with organic would damage their flesh. But then again, Noct said Ardyn wasn’t a sack of the Scourge anymore, which should have meant he was human… or close to it. Which also meant those demanding pleas coming from the depths of his guts proved his weaknesses. It was hard to take the man seriously when his stomach was so blatantly insistent, and if it pulled any eagerness from Gladio, that wasn’t of bloodlust. 

Noctis looked between the three of them, “Do we have some food?”

Of course they had food, it was securely stored in the Armiger. Gladio frankly didn’t expect Noctis would have remembered that dinner in the haven even though it happened less than days ago. Dinner they had after getting their friend back. No one ate a crumb after Noctis started speaking; Prompto looked like he was heartbeats away from hauling his bowl into the fire.

When they started preparing for the sleepless night, Ignis gathered everything he had cooked and took on storing it into the Armiger, with four thoroughly cleaned bowls. He did not see Noctis’ expression but explained without a word from him:

“ _We shouldn’t waste our supplies. Especially if we are going to eat it together soon._ ”

Noctis nodded on a pure reflex – his gaze seemed faraway, not with them already. He was like that since the moment he jumped off Talcott’s truck and the way he appeared before them after the long separation, the same person but very different demeanor.

“ _Why so many?_ ” he asked in the affirmative manner, and Ignis’ hands halted upon the container with food stocked neatly inside.

Turning in the exact direction where Noct stood was a visceral move for Ignis. Smoke blended with the pregnant pause in the air between them, their silhouettes half in shadow, half in light. It felt like the coolth of Ignis’ breath drifted to Gladio, because for a second the warmth of the bonfire ebbed away from his shoulders. Or it was he who stopped breathing. The second passed, Ignis returned to his task.

“ _Because we will definitely have a picnic at dawn, even if we have to do it right on the steps of the Citadel. All four of us._ ”

That was neither a delusion nor the pretty words to hide an ugly truth – no, they knew all and didn’t accept it. They followed their King’s decision, his duty and fate, but never accepted it. Perhaps, autosuggestion was the word, not like they’d have acknowledged it.

A smile caught on Noctis’ lips like an afterthought but didn’t quite reach his eyes. They knew he didn’t want to discourage them but his look burnt with mourning as if everything had happened already and he didn’t have a heart to tell them. Yet he found strength to give them a smile, a simple and honest one that time, which was more than they could possibly ask for.

“ _If so... maybe on this occasion I would eat the veggies you don’t quit to cram me with_ ,” he reached forward and touched Ignis’ shoulder, the calm and solid demonstration that whatever awaited them ahead, now they were together and that was what mattered. The touch felt on Prompto’ and Gladio’s shoulders no less real.

With a quick change in his face Noct’s smile gained an impish edge.

“ _Well, you know. Maaaybe_ ,” he teased, and his eyes were full of light and it efficiently replaced the missing stars in the sky.

After everything was packed and put up for the early departure, and they got ready for bed, Gladio came to ask himself: what was it like – to lay there knowing death awaited him in his one and only home? How did he accept the fact he wouldn’t see the sun, the people he died for? How hard was it for him? How painful? Or did he really make peace with sacrificing himself so compliantly? Gladio couldn’t stand to get into thoughts like these, they hunted him like a fresh nightmare ever since.

He forcefully withdrew himself from the pitch-black pit he fell into and looked at the present. By that moment Ignis actively fished the bowls and bundles out from the Armiger and unloaded them into a stack on his lap.

“Sure we do. We have plenty of leftovers from our last dinner. If you don’t mind cold nosh?”

Gladio didn’t miss the way Ardyn clutched his bare stomach tighter at the sight of food appearing out of nowhere. He was so glued to their no-frills provision, he didn’t even realize his straightforward stare, mouth barely kept shut. The tell-tale rumble returned with revenge.

“This…” Noctis’ eyes flung from the baggie of jerky to the sachet of hard tack to the soup container and to the still-steaming thermos, which miraculously all stayed on their place where Ignis put them on his lap. Noct laughed through exhaling, looking incomparably animated. “This will do. Good job Ignis.”

He probably recognized what Gladio had noted because he started looking about and hopped off his seat. His chair was embellished with a coverlet that served the decorative role alone, which Noctis decided to repurpose as a tablecloth. Except they didn’t have a table at their disposal but the floor suited just fine, or so thought Noct; after a rough estimate he gestured them to push their chairs back and turned the cover over with the other side up that should have worked as the clean one. Well, it definitely saw less dust and dirty pants last years.

When the prompt table linen was laid, Noctis patted it with his palm. Prompto got the implication and began to briskly free Ignis from his ‘burden’, trays and bundles lowered on their makeshift picnic blanket. After everything was done, Noctis was first to take a seat, not forgetting to place a cushion under his back.

“Let’s feast,” he slapped his knees. “Bet all of us are starving.”

Which was… rightfully not an overstatement, judging by how uncomfortably empty Gladio felt himself. And looking at the guys with ardently snatched cutlery and lit up eyes, even Ignis’, they didn’t go far from him. So like good old days when Iggy did his kitchen magic, Noct complained about carrots and Prompto bounced with anticipation of eating something fancy and free.

And then Prompto’s excitement abated, Iggy went blind and Noct climbed the stairs of the Citadel only to never return and taste that or any other food ever again.

Gladio gritted his teeth when a shockwave of sizzling rage washed over him the moment his eyes landed on Ardyn. He was going to take a tentative step and invade their group but careened under the force of Gladio’s taciturn spite. A marvelous thing Noct didn’t catch in his staring contest with instantly lost Ardyn, more interested in scooping crackers to his tray. With the sheer power of will, Gladio told himself to stop.

‘Not gonna think about it now,’ he made himself focus on his food, pushing the bully’s quirks back whenever they came from. It would do no good for them if he lost it. Gladio picked the container and opened it a little too harshly, pottage narrowly escaped from dripping out. ‘Eat the damn soup and don’t look at him.’

It seemed like things were improving for him and then his brains toggled from rough equanimity back to reeling red-hot ferocity. There was no sense in moping over Noct’s death when the princess shoveled down a chunk of bread right beside him. It wasn’t helping though that he was angry at himself for _being angry_ and then going fucking nuts at the synthesis of those two angers colliding together. He felt like an overused diesel that was about to explode had the maroon color gotten into his sight. He was tired and just wanted to eat without choking on his ferality. Just that lunch, he would do better for Noctis.

“Ardyn, quit stallin’,” Noct said without distracting from the impressive mountain of food in his bowl. Where did the brat get cheese?.. “Or we will eat e’rything.” 

That made all of them look at the man expectantly – Ignis raised his brow as if waiting for Ardyn’s next move. The latter, though, couldn’t dare a footfall. Perhaps Prompto was at fault, Prompto and his tearing into beef with maintaining eye contact as if nonverbally saying where his teeth would appear next. Jeez, seeing his own behavior from the side convinced Gladio how entirely superfluous he looked...

Ardyn kept agonizing where he stood away, while the rest of them would finish their portions in no time. Noctis was positioned slightly ahead of them so he did not see the expressions Prompto was currently eviscerating Ardyn with. As much as it was distantly amusing, it started to be more annoying than anything: why hadn’t he found a better time for that? If Specs joined blondie’s sneaky ploy by changing his fork with a dagger, it would lose what little fun the scene held. Oblivious for the reason of Ardyn’s hesitation, Noct turned and beckoned to him:

“C’mon, sit with me. You need food.”

Ardyn’s pained gaze landed on him. He hurried forward, not looking away from Noct’s features, undoubtedly in fear of impaling himself on Prompto’s death ray or Ignis’ cold indifference; the former could be intimidating when he wanted so. Ardyn stumbled gracelessly and crashed on his knees beside Noctis in a heap of long, awkward limbs. So much for the ancient evil.

“Take anything you like,” Noctis reassured him with a kind smile, pointing towards trays positioned on their mat. “There are lots of foods here, eat as much as you want.”

“Sure, we can easily get more. No probs,” Prompto mumbled in his soup casually, totally counting on Noctis’ unawareness of how difficult it was to find a dried stone-hard gingerbread in the realias of their world. Considering Ardyn didn’t know it either… Dry fire, Prom. 

Ardyn’s hand twitched, like, three times before he finally lifted it and reached out. His fingers hovered above the dishes dangerously close to Prompto’s hip, and of course the latter couldn’t not scrunch his brows together like a jackal protecting the last shred of carrion. Ardyn snatched his hand back, shoulders drooping.

“Perhaps Ardyn has overestimated his hunger if he allows himself to be picky.” Iggy, not you too. 

Okay, fuck that. That shit show had to wait until they all were sated and bright in brains. And by all he meant Ardyn as well. Gladio refused to be as petty as to deny food to a starving man. 

“Here,” Gladio shoved his own bowl to his chest; thankfully, Ardyn didn’t drop it. “Don’t sleep, or His Majesty won’t leave a crust for ya.” 

For good measure he fetched a few meat slices and poured the tepid tea into the thermos lid. That should suffice to alleviate Ardyn’s hunger pangs and chilly shaking. Maybe after eating his miserable state would diminish and it would be easier to deal with him. 

The ex-Accursed stared at him with the thunderstruck face, eyes, mouth, posture and everything else. He collected himself soon after and actually bowed his head and upper body to Gladio. What an excessive way to thank for the bowl of plain broth. Ardyn didn’t straighten up until Gladio waved him away.

“No sweat,” Gladio sighed. Six, he never sighed, it simply wasn’t typical for him. Damn, was he so worn-out or what. At least now he could relax a bit… On second thought, not yet. He called out, “Prompto.”

“Hm?”

“If you’re so starved, I can share with you.” He didn’t have to glance sideways to see Prompto’s widened eyes. “No need to be greedy and hit others’ hands just because their piece looks more tasty. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Just like Ignis said, their meal had cooled down, but he high-key might reheat it by placing the containers to Prompto’s flaming cheeks. Gladio didn’t condemn him for being tough on Ardyn, he himself was not very different, if not worse. Afterall, he was the angry one. But he believed they damn well deserved a respite from the permanent exerting themselves, and if they would not use the opportunity to catch their breath, he didn’t know when they would be able to afford it later. 

While Noctis fussed over furnishing Ardyn with clean utensils and sugar cubes for some reason, Prompto managed to regain control over his feelings and used the quick interlude to lower his voice to whisper in Gladio’s ear:

“I thought he didn’t need to eat at all?”

“My guess is as good as yours,” he lowered his voice to play along. Noct was too occupied with trying to make Ardyn take the spoon to pay attention to their small talk.

“Apparently, we have the additional mouth to feed.” Ignis didn’t have to pretend he didn’t hear their little conspiracy, though he didn’t give them away.

“Can he even eat regular food?” Prompto eyed his own tray quickly. “I mean… shouldn’t he need… like, raw meat? Daemon’s flesh? Human blood as a variant?”

“Either way, I don’t include such a daring garnish in my recipes, so he must be satisfied with what’s offered to him.” Ignis said it with a face too serious to actually mean it. They snorted. A cook dictated how to treat his work, that was rule number one in the Scientia’s Kitchen.

Meanwhile Noctis finished with instructing Ardyn and reached to pat Ignis’ knee.

“I forgot to thank you properly. The food is soo good.” He made a gauche hitch. “Just as always.”

Ignis preened after the praise nevertheless; Noct wasn’t famous for acknowledging others’ chores accomplished for his sake, and getting one now, when he clearly had interests in another field, could do it to any of them. Ignis tried to hide his pleased smile in his next mouthful:

“My apologies for serving it cold. The moment we have fire I will compensate by coming up with something more nutritious. And warm, of course.”

“Aww, Iggy. Even if your cooking will be chewed and spitted three times in a row, it still will be delicious.” Prompto mimicked Noct’s earlier gesture with patting his knee in what he assumed was a flattering claim. Ignis seemed unimpressed, which might have something to do with the author of the familiarity or more likely dubious choice of words.

“Who would have thought we’d actually make it,” Gladio glossed over Prompto’s communication skills and sipped his tea, regretting they had nothing stronger in stock. He elaborated after the questioning silence, “The picnic, I mean. All four of us celebrating the dawn, together. Not on the steps of the Citadel, but don’t know about you but I’m great with my ass not freezing up outside.”

“It’s good to know our ambitions paid off in the end,” Ignis, the originator of the whole idea, wore the well-deserved pride in himself. “Although I wish His Highness kept his promise…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Noct didn’t fail to cut off the innuendo. Prompto laughed and suddenly lifted his metal mug.

“Alright, boys, that’s the shot! Everything was against us: darkness, old kings, daemons and daemons again, divine prophecies, rough roads. But look who’s resting on laurels now... We are!” He gave the most dazzling smile like the sun was a joke. “I want to raise a toast.”

“To what?” Gladio grinned. Seemed like blondie’s enthusiasm was in the ranks again. Good, it suited him more than vulturine malice. He missed his smiles. 

“To stay badass that we are!” Prompto yelled and jerked his hand even higher, tea splashing but not spilling. 

“Cheers,” Gladio saluted and emptied his mug in one gulp. Champagne or beer would have been better, but it really couldn’t matter less for them. 

“Cheers,” Ignis took up with them, drinking the toast, lit up in the face. 

A coughing fit became their thunderous applause. As it turned out, Ardyn chose that moment to choke over his own drink. Noctis immediately dived into help, patting him on the back and offering more tea at the same time, obviously panicking but trying to solve the problem by every possible means at his disposal. In a way, it was somewhat touching, like seeing your kid learning responsibility through taking care of a pet. That mental image and Ignis’ long-suffering mien amused Gladio to no end. Prompto grumped something incoherent about the scene before them but it showed less than a half of his usual rancor towards Ardyn. No one wanted to spoil the happy aftertaste of their cheering drinks with swearing.

“You’re better?” Noct asked when Ardyn finally stopped coughing, not thanks to Noctis’ efforts. After blinking reflex tears away, Ardyn nodded, keeping a hold on his throat. 

Noctis slowly nodded too and curled his fingers around Ardyn’s hand that still was clutching a spoon as if an anchor. “Don’t rush,” he advised. “No one’s gonna take your food away. Calm down.”

Ardyn eased his deathly grip on the utensil, wild eyes darting between the leftovers and the place where Noct touched him, the last one agitated him especially and effectively ruffled Gladio instincts. After a few more moments of the inner fight that was painted on Ardyn’s face in big words, he started eating again.

Gladio renewed his portion, distracting himself with the plain but tasty snacks and the sense of peace they brought on him.

Boy, did they really need that – some peace and quiet.

“I’m stuffed,” Noctis announced after a while and positioned a hand over his belly, which should have emphasized his words but it still looked flat. The amount of food he polished off was undeniably remarkable, though… 

“Then you’re ready for the Big Talk?” Prompto eagerly pounced on the long-awaited chance to squeeze out juicy details of Noct’s mishaps that continued to strike them with the substantial consequence now. As much as Gladio wished to support Prompto, he knew where it came to. “Yes? Yes? You gotta tell us everything!”

“Mhhhmmn,” was Noct’s mind-blowing reply. Just like Gladio thought.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just… five minutes.”

“Noooct.”

“Four… minutes.”

They observed the amazing transformation of their King into the sack of sluggish limbs and sleepy sniffs in the matter of seconds. He fell asleep right where he sat, the cushion accepted his weight and dipped him into the tranquil slumber. 

“Noct?” Ignis called but naturally didn’t get a reaction.

“Breaking off conversations with unscheduled shuteyes like always,” Prompto puffed a breath. “And what about us?”

“Waiting.” There wasn’t much they could do except for resting a bit themselves. The risings and fallings of Noct’s chest were somewhat hypnotizing and bended to doze too.

There was a shift from Ardyn’s side. Gladio, much like from the habit, twitched into his direction but the man didn’t move a muscle. His eyelids were heavy. He struggled with staying upright. Maybe the magic of the shared dinner had passed, or Gladio’s mind had cleared, but the suspicion crawled upon his perception twice as sharp. He clenched his jaw; just because someone got hungry and cold didn’t equal they meant no harm. The proximity of Ardyn and Noct felt wrong in many ways. Gladio was suddenly afraid of making a smallest jerk as if it would provoke the daemon to do something when he and Noctis were so close. 

With the swell of anxiety, he watched as Ardyn slightly swayed, the spoon and tray still tucked in his arms, and bumped his shoulder against Noct’s. Gladio nearly exploded but nothing happened.

“Hey, what the—” Prompto bristled up, strangled, looking offended on Noct’s behalf and alarmed of waking him up at the same time. Noctis mumbled incoherent protests through the dream.

Ardyn jolted, blinking at him drowsily, but before he had time to react consciously, Noct’s arm snaked around his shoulders. He pressed him against himself in one exigent tug, making Ardyn drop his load, all without opening his eyes.

“Hmm,” was everything Noct maundered, head lolling against Ardyn’s temple. Ardyn glanced up at him before curling into his shoulder and closing his eyes. The sigh that escaped him told the story of the most arrogant contentment Gladio had ever witnessed.

Ignis touched his shoulder, voice quiet:

“What’s happening?”

“Noct’s being exploited like a teddy bear,” Prompto answered instead of Gladio, no hint of his earlier gaiety. Ignis furrowed his brows, looking between confused and scandalized.

“Shouldn’t we put them into the appropriate state?”

“And Noct initiated it,” Gladio finished, fishing a phone out of his pocket. His phone was still there and even functioning. Gladio watched the flashed screen and thought of the good use for it at the moment.

“Time to contact Marshal.” He swiped the lock screen and began to scroll scanty contacts. The battery was on its deathbed but it should be enough for one call. Iris would have to wait.

“If you please,” Ignis nodded after ‘running an eye over him’. He did that sometimes, inclining his head in the way as if he was really giving a once over. He never needed his eyes to see through Gladio’s mind though. “Don’t worry, we will look after Noct.”

“You better.”

Every joint in Gladio’s body screamed in agony when he started lifting himself from the floor. Noct wasn’t steered the slightest bit by Gladio’s heavy boots echoing in the room’s silence. He slipped through the door, the narrow slit left for the sake of precaution. He didn’t want to muff the alarm. 

Rounding the corner, far enough so as not to disturb Noct but not too much, Gladio dialed Cor’s number without any preamble. The phone was picked at the first ring, “Leonis.”

Gladio took a pause to listen in the distant buzz of voices in the background. Glaives were eager to know news, some couldn’t restrain from violating the subordination by shouting questions. _Did you see the sun?_ or _Do you need help?_ , but most commonly were the variations of _Is King Noctis alright?_. Cor didn’t shut them up.

“Gladio?” His voice wavered but only to Gladio’s knowing ear.

Gladio took a deep breath before realizing he couldn’t explain everything via phone. He didn’t have words or credentials to take the role. Anyway, the old man probably couldn’t sit straight and not to rush to them, so why deprive him of the pleasure to see all by himself? 

“You,” Gladio started and stopped, a yawn splitting his face. He rubbed his eye with his free hand. He would die for an hour of sleep but like hell he would be able to do it in the nearest future. “You need to come here, Marshal. There’s a situation and…” 

He paused, peeking back into the room. ‘The situation’ was calm, peaceful almost. His brains had to play tricks with him if he thought he heard cries.

“That’s worth seeing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’d like to thank everyone for your kudos and lovely comments. We appreciate each and every piece of your feedback and welcome to share it more at our [FFXV Discord server](https://discord.gg/7s24mdqqH6).  
> Happy Valentines Day, everyone! To help you pass the time waiting for the next update, we want to present you the alternative story development of the Shadows of the Dawn, [Secrets & Omissions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440785). Starting today the "Lex of Duality" is gonna grow in size just how we planned it from the beginning, and that fic will mark the first of the several upcoming bonuses in this series, each is a longfic. Don't forget to check Secrets after finishing this chapter ;)

The article lying next to him looked more like a compact bed, smoothly polished and embroidered on its padded parts, than a chair it was supposed to be. Extrinsic to the ones he remembered from before. Or hardly remembered. He was not so sure about anything. And most of all about the place he was currently in. With large halls and high ceilings that tended to be very reverberant. Scattered pieces of furniture he hardly knew proper naming for dotted completely barren locations. Everything he saw was dark grey walls with stripes of gold and paintings of grim faces or landscapes. The reason why and how he was there and not in his prison remained obscure.

He looked at the chair again. At least he could tell it was a chair with the incrustation of confidence. It seemed appealing to look at. And to touch too. Maybe he could come closer and feel how smooth it really was. One little touch, he would not let his hand linger there longer than necessary. He took a step forward but the pulling jerked him back so suddenly, he stumbled. Having to catch the wall for support, he flailed his free hand for balance.

The steps ahead halted.

“Ardyn!”

He startled, looking up. Then he realized.

Oh, it was his name. Ardyn. He knew it meant many things. He liked ‘shining’ the most.

There was the Light moving towards him – clear and soft and welcoming. The Light so natural for his essence, like the continuation of his body or the afterthought. Closing his eyes, he could relish in it like in the sun he had seen recently. That Light was Noctis and he was heading to him. Ardyn wanted to meet him halfway. They were still so far apart, lightyears away from each other. He tried to go to him but was tugged back. Something prevented him from reaching Noctis again and again as if the unseen curse held them separated forever. The pain, mental and physical, followed his stubborn efforts. If he endeavored enough, and prayed hard, then one day, one day he would approach that Light. 

“Wait, wait, let me see.” It was Noctis who came to him on his own. He kneeled beside him, arms outstretched, and started to untwine the piece of the cloth hanging from Ardyn’s waist. It caught on sharp ends of the rocks near the wall and firmly stuck there.

So it was not the curse after all. Ardyn was relieved to know no baneful spell caused his predicament. At the same time it was embarrassing to make Noctis save him from such a trifling obstacle. He was slow to move and hesitant to speak. His gestures were inept and his clothes were dirty tatters. And now he troubled Noctis with his clumsiness. Ardyn only hoped Noctis did not mind too much to help him occasionally. At other times, he would try harder. 

“I think,” Noctis lifted his head, “it will be difficult for you to walk like this, so…”

The world made a tiny chime when a dagger materialized in Noctis’ hand. The vibrant blue crystals flashed around his wrist before dissolving into thin air. Ardyn looked into the reflecting blade, fascinated by its odd familiarity.

The sign of Noctis’ magic – it matched his eyes, as deep as the summer nights. He never appreciated the season much for its sultry daylight hours, full of sweat and headaches. But all his worries vanished with the last rays of the sun. After dusk the afternoon heat died down to the dewy freshness and serenity. It was the time he could breathe freely despite lurking shadows. There were only himself and the glimmer of the wild stars above that beaconed his path.

Ardyn earned for those quiet nights, filled with calm lights. He loved them now even more. 

He opened his mouth but only the _Oh_ escaped. For some reason he struggled with expressing more than hollow exclamations. He had a feeling it should not be like that. Not to mention the inconveniences it brought him. Especially when he needed to say something such as how unnecessary was bothering over him.

Deaf to his silent pleas, Noctis grabbed the rag and chopped it to bits in a few slashes. He withdrew them carefully, while Ardyn shifted from foot to foot. It was distressing and more than frustrating. How he failed to accomplish the utter cinch. 

“Much better.” Noctis straightened up from his knees and directed the full power of his discernment at Ardyn. “Everything’s alright? I haven’t hurt you?”

Noctis have not hurt him – he could never. His hands were so gentle. Ardyn wanted to tell him about it. But whether it was a decent thing to say he did not know, or how to do it anyway. So he dropped his gaze and shook his head. Noctis frequently asked him if he was alright. Not even once he managed to confirm or deny it aloud with conviction. And that was the ground for further brooding. 

“Good,” was Noctis’ conclusion. “Don’t fall behind. Let’s move.”

Contrary to his words, Noctis did not leave his side instantly. He glanced at Ardyn pensively as if judging him. His appearance resurfaced in his mind. Ardyn’s hands flung on their own account to enfold his exposed torso. He was so used to his improper state, he forgot it could displease other people.

“Don’t do this.” Of course, Noctis had already seen him unbecoming from every angle by the hour. Yet Ardyn strived to will his voice to apologize. Better late than never. If he could not do much about it. But then Noctis suddenly dismissed him, and his heart sunk down, “No, no.” 

He pressed fingers to his temple and rubbed the skin with tiredness permeating his whole visage. “Sorry, I should have realized sooner.” 

Before Ardyn could comprehend why Noctis felt the need to apologize himself, the world chimed again. Noctis held a long fabric of the dark grey color in his hands but did not place it on himself. He sheltered Ardyn’s shoulders instead.

His ultimate decision took Ardyn by surprise but he quickly clamped the cloth, not letting it slip off him when Noctis let go of it. He barely stifled a gasp because the material was… irresistibly fluffy. And silky, like luxurious animal fur. It covered his back fully in the tender embrace. The desire to nuzzle against it, which he could not defy, overwhelmed Ardyn. He lifted the corner to his face, pressed his cheek against it and sighed. 

He did not think he was cold but he felt so safe now. As if he was in Noctis’ hands again.

“Thank you.” Ardyn looked up at him with a smile that he felt in his every pore. His heart swelled not only with gratitude but with pride too. He finally did well. 

For a rather long time Noctis simply eyed him, unmoving and silent, probably even deep in thoughts, though his eyes – they watched him intently. Maybe a plain Thank you was not enough and he should say something else? But before he could have opened his mouth again, Noctis shifted.

“You’re welcome.” His mouth twitched as if he did not decide whether to smile or stay serious. “Right.” Noctis turned to others who were waiting ahead. They did not interrupt the two of them the whole time, allowing them privacy. Ardyn was thankful for their sense of tact. He yet had had a moment alone with Noctis. “Come on.”

When they reunited with the small group, the taller man mumbled something in the low voice. Ardyn was not trying to overhear but he heard nonetheless and experienced a flush of guilt:

“My blanket...”

From what little Ardyn understood from their previous interactions with each other, that man’s name was ‘Gladio’. He had a vague hunch it was a stripped-down version and the actual name sounded different, longer or radically diverse. The way Noctis’ companions were communicating sometimes proved ‘Gladio’ was used in the same manner as ‘Noct’. Ardyn could not say he was not curious about the original version of his name but he felt self-conscious to ask, uninitiated even. He admitted ‘Noct’ possessed its own charm. Ardyn also hoped ‘Gladio’ would come to terms with him borrowing the blanket if it was Noctis who gave it to him.

Another man with bright, blond hair tapped ‘Gladio’ on the shoulder, shaking his head. That one had two versions of his name: ‘Prom’, mostly used by Noctis and Gladio, and ‘Prompto’. His situation was clearer because Ardyn guessed ‘Prom’ was just short for ‘Prompto’ and felt a relief. Had he needed to address Prompto in the future, there was a proper and polite way to call him, unlike with Gladio. Although Ardyn did not look forward to the day he would have to do it. ‘Prompto’s’ innocuous appearance did not match the sheer animosity he threatened him with. It cut to the quick because Ardyn did not share the same sentiments towards the man and was more than afraid of him. 

The third one with burns on his face was ‘Ignis’ – ‘Iggy’ and that sounded fairly strange, like a little pet’s name. The man didn’t seem to mind, but Ardyn knew better than trying to repeat after Noctis’ entourage. Among the three of them, he emitted the most ominous yet indistinct energetics. Ardyn could not tell what to think about ‘Ignis’ and how the man regarded him.

“Ardyn?” he heard Noctis calling him impatiently, which indicated it was not for the first or second time. Ardyn realized then that everyone had moved far away, while he draggled by himself. He found it difficult to follow others’ pace with how persistently his leg was worrying him. Still, the prospect of staying alone scared him unimaginably greater than unfair prejudice of Noctis’ allies.

When Ardyn caught up with them, muffling his panting, he noticed Prompto throwing a look at his rugs and scrunching up his nose in distaste. 

“I’m not going to lend him my stuff,” he told Gladio in the tight whisper. The latter hummed in acknowledgement. “But it’s Noct after all. Not gonna go against _His Majesty_ ’s whims.”

Ardyn assumed Prompto was talking about Noctis. But it didn’t sound as fond as usual. He felt bad making the man scorn Noctis, even if the slightest bit. 

Gladio continued, “More like His partiality for every stray cat he meets on the way.”

He had that tug to his lips, half-amused, half-humorless, that his face wore so often. It vanished completely when he caught Ardyn staring. Ardyn really should stop his gawking, it was rude and he knew it. He did not decide whether he did it from disquiet or curiosity.

Then Gladio made a ‘tsk’ kind of sound and jerked his jaw aside to Prompto as if motioning for him to seclude to have a private talk. Without someone eavesdropping. The dose of shame added to the anxious pit in his stomach. Ardyn did not mean to make them uncomfortable or spy on their talk.

The way Prompto regarded him with the querulous look at parting spoke of his failure.

Ardyn felt his skin itching with the probably useless but nonetheless persistent need to apologize and explain the amicable character of his intentions. Noctis’ prod from ahead did not allow him to draggle any further, “Ardyn, hurry up.” That together with his outstretched hand sealed Ardyn’s mouth shut better than any stares from the others.

The regret aching in his chest never subsided.

———————❖———————

There was a sound. A fleeting, tiny noise. It had no beginning and no end, it came out of nowhere and departed in that nameless place only to return again.

It was more of a feeling than a sound. He tried to paint the picture, but there were too many images in his mind. The light whisper of wind in the wheat field and the intangible dance of breeze through the woods. The reticent rustle of leaves in the heavy canopy of cork oaks and the gentle caress of blue petals against the skin. All of them planted the longing of the incomprehensible origins between his other feelings.

The sensation tailed his every step from the moment he had awakened in the castle, but now its nature obtained the tenacious quality. It besought him in the wordless pleas, tugging at his arms, pushing at his legs – leading him towards the source, the reason behind the sound. Making him lift his hand and push the cold, metal surface. Opening doors, revealing a path to the place he should find—

The spacious, cluttered room appeared before him, and the sound was gone. Most of all it resembled a repository with shelves aligned from the floor to the very ceiling and numerous boxes neatly stoked in the corners, the biggest of them were white and chest-like, with frost on their seals. 

“You there, look.” Noctis opened the door wider to show the interior to others. “Ardyn found something interesting.”

“Yeah?” Gladio asked, escorting Noctis inside. He skimmed past Ardyn without sparing him a second glance. “Let’s see how useful this ‘something’ actually is.”

Ardyn tried to keep his distance from Gladio. If he was sure about anything, then it had to be how very-very upset was the man with his presence. He did not like Ardyn being that close to Noctis. The same could be said about the other two.

Ardyn tried _very hard_ to stay away from them and closer to Noctis. Unfortunately, that dismayed the others even more, but Ardyn did not know how to make them less irked with him. They were worried about Noctis, but was not Ardyn too? They had their weapons and strength, but Ardyn had only his faith in Noctis.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The voice was first to manifest and the tuft of yellow hair established the owner of the energetic ditty. Prompto peeped out from the doorway and then leapt in fully. “The boss loot of this dungeon?”

“Is this some kind of a game for you?” Gladio grumbled from where he investigated the contents of the boxes, looking pleasantly distracted with the findings to put the meaning in his admonition.

“I’m just trying to spice things up, c’mon, how long are we killing time awaiting the big man’s arrival?”

“Let’s hope we won’t meet the actual boss here.”

“Uhh. Right… Treasures, I’m coming!”

Despite the mordant remarks and glares, Ardyn could not bring himself to dislike Prompto. He was such a vernal, agile soul, the most buoyant one among them all. And handsy too: he clasped Noctis on the back and shoulder, jabbed Gladio’s side with his elbow or clung to the very same side and tugged at Ignis’ forearm when he thought the latter might collide with an obstacle – Ignis let him, though it was obvious he could have avoided it by himself. 

Prompto was quick. And the fastest to lose a degree of his mirth when he looked at Ardyn. At first he openly demonstrated his antipathy but it hurt less than when he channeled his true appraisal through the fixed facade of a smile. Ardyn wondered, half-heartedly, why he felt forced to smile at him. And why he so contempted him...

“We must have reached storage rooms.” Ignis joined them inside. His breath turned into steam, the temperature was way low for comfort. He shivered. “Servants used to keep provision and medications in this section of the castle. Alas, we’ll unlikely find supplies fit for consumption, it’s been too long.” 

It did not cease to baffle Ardyn how Ignis orientated in the building so huge relying only on his memory. Ignis was blind, there was no mistake in it. Ardyn did not see his eyes, they were hidden behind the glasses of the unique design, but the way Ignis moved suggested no other ideas. He regularly asked the other two for clarification but barely needed help while walking through the halls or fumbling for doors.

He did not talk much but every time he did his voice sounded… polite. Sterile even. The kind of voice Ardyn expected to hear from elderly scholars. It changed essentially in Noctis’ company: dryness gave way to depth, sharp edges flattened almost to melodic, formality turned into jocosity or concern. He sounded elated just to be with Noctis in the same dimension. Ardyn listened in his voice a lot, he liked the marvelous transformation of Ignis’ tone, even if it was not directed at him.

“Food and meds are probably long spoiled, but look what I’ve got here.” Gladio drew their attention to his fist. A vial of turquoise color dimly glinted in his hand. Gladio’s victorious look should mean something equally outstanding but the bottle told Ardyn nothing of interest. 

“Nooo,” Prompto cried out, but his clamor did not match the excited fire in his eyes. “A potion, seriously?! And still active?”

“The potions,” Gladio emphasized, attaining more glowing bottles from his back. “Elixirs, antidotes, smelling salts… all types. Guess blondie was right about the loot. There’s enough for an army. Or a throng of civilians.” 

Gladio was the tallest and the biggest of them with a rumbling, gruff voice and scars crisscrossing the side of his face. His eyes were red amber when Ardyn peeked into them that single time. He avoided reinitiating it since that time because there was something violent watching him back. With teeth bared in a snarl and harsh growl rising down from the throat, he was the beast in human flesh. Ardyn did not think he was ever so terrified as the first time he had seen the man. 

But for the rest of the time Gladio seemed… the most approachable from the trio. Ardyn did not forget how he shared his meal with him and allowed him to have his blanket. Or embraced others with his body and drollery. And even now he looked so self-satisfied, more a brawler in a tavern than a supposedly experienced warrior. Maybe behind the coarse skin a big heart hid, as big as the man himself. Ardyn smiled at the thought. 

By all accounts the three men were dear to Noctis. _They were friends_. Ardyn assumed he had had friends too but he could not recall their faces or names. He wished they were like those three. Their unconditional affection for Noctis was straightaway palpable.

That fact itself made them the best people for Ardyn in the whole world.

Ardyn snuggled closer to Noctis. He was happy for him. It was good to have someone to care about you. Ardyn wanted to be the one of them, to be competent enough to care about Noctis, like Noctis cared about him. But what could he do for that goal?

The idea occurred to him. He might not know what to do, but Noctis’ friends were not him and they seemed adept at proposing him required comforts even before Noctis would drop a word. Ardyn could learn a lot from them. It would be nice to befriend… to befriend Prompto, Gladio and Ignis. To get to know each other better. Ardyn thought it would not be too hard – they had Noctis in common and it was enough for a start. He should try and make a good impression on them. Maybe he could begin to pave the way by asking Gladio’s full name…

Prompto bypassed him and Noctis and beelined to the frozen white chests. There was no reason for Prompto to address him or look at him and especially not to brush him on purpose. And he, indeed, did none. Ardyn did not understand why he felt wistful about it. 

No matter how he strived to trample the dismal thought on the borders of his mind, it wormed its way to the spotlight. The resigned thought that he should not even bother. It was not possible for him to be liked by anyone other than Noctis. It was obvious just by the glances the men gave him – they had no desire to talk to him, to acknowledge his worth of existence.

He wanted to ask why. To understand and try to fix what he had done that made them so angry with him. But he barely could open his mouth to talk to Noctis, not to mention others. He did not want Noctis’ friends to hate him. He had to make things right. Yet he did not know how.

So he watched silently and tried to know each one of them secretly at first. Maybe that way he would realize what he had done wrong and correct it without them noticing.

Maybe when he would do it, everything would become better.

“Boys, you won’t guess…” Prompto called somewhat wheezy. Ardyn saw how from the box he had opened flew the purple smoke in a steady stream. It snaffled his attention securely. Was it the issue that affected Prompto? The smoke looked fascinating, like consisting of countless liquid stars that shone light and dark at the same time... “But it’s food. Actual fresh, picture-perfect and ready-to-devour vegetables and fruits. Open other fridges, I bet you’ll find meat in there.”

“No way.” Gladio springed up there right away and pushed him aside. Prompto stepped down without complaints. Gladio stuck his head and almost all of the upper body inside and started to rummage in the ‘fridge’, which was accompanied with rustling and then with the incredulous mumbling, “You gotta be shitting me.”

“You are not mistaken? The food is edible?” Ignis rushed to them with a little tippy moves and clasped Prompto’s arm as if seeking confirmation. 

“No kidding.” Gladio answered, sniffing the bottle with something fluid in it. “Even milk smells good, let alone doesn’t look like a spew. Here, use your own nose.” 

“It should have expired long ago,” Ignis muttered cautiously but accepted the offered bottle and took it to his nose. His breath blew away the purple fog. “It’s enigmatic...”

“I know, right?!” Prompto said hectically. The discovery rendered him fidgeting, the tap of his right foot echoed in the room. 

“Hmm.” Noctis walked to another fridge and opened it, scrutinizing the insides with care. Ardyn was glad he did so because that way he could survey the spill of stars closely before it would be gone. Lavender. Amethyst. Grape? Or maybe plum jam. And of course raisin... Ardyn distinguished or thought that he distinguished a myriad of hues, each of which aroused something familiar to him, like a long-forgotten taste at the tip of his tongue that he longed for the major part of his life. Before he could try and comprehend the delicate pricking on the back of his consciousness, everything he saw was the containers with creamy sweets that the smoke had covered recently.

“I found a cake,” Noctis said loudly, looking way more interested than a second before.

“A cake!?” Prompto pivoted on his heels with no less exhilaration.

“The chocolate cake,” Noctis nodded and partially closed the door. “ _I_ found it. It’s mine.”

“Suuure. Check if there is tiramisu. Oh man, I haven’t had tiramisu in literal eternity!” 

As it turned out, other fridges and shelves too had that purple light covering their contents like a veil. After touching, it came to life and floated away, various streams mixed together and swirled under the ceiling in the slow, bewitching dance. Ardyn could not tear his eyes from the transfer of colors and twinkles. It almost looked like the space nebula bursted into their mundane realm. The depth of the vortex seemed fathomless but benign. He wanted to ask Noctis how he liked it.

He wanted to raise his hand and feel the light.

It was something he knew.

Something he once—

“You only look at that!” Prompto whistled somewhere from the side, and Ardyn snapped out to reality, thrilled someone shared his sentiments. But Prompto was intently foraging in fridges and paid no mind to the miracle right above him. Quick inspection told Ardyn that Gladio and Ignis did the same, while Noctis was not busy but looked in the different direction.

None of them looked at the light. No one saw it like Ardyn did.

He glanced back at the ceiling and, with a sinking heart, saw the colors fade like a mirage.

The sight of the dimming stars reaped and clenched something inside him so tight he choked. If not others then he, he had to reach for that light and catch it and he had to save it before it was too late, but he barely had time to lift a hand when the light vanished into thin air. The last star winked its goodbye and evanesced.

Without the purple light, he felt more lonely than ever before. Ardyn wrapped the blanket around himself tighter and stood there, waiting for that light to reappear.

It didn’t.

He still searched for the glimpses of stars even when it became determinate he waited in vain. He was no stranger to waiting. Waiting was all he had had for himself for years and everything he thrived in.

But his prayers were never enough, it reminded him.

“Summarising what we’ve discovered...”

Ignis spoke in the distance, his voice like the noise of water in Ardyn’s ears and nothing more. The sounds of others’ voices wedged into each other somewhere far away, too small and insignificant to care, too transient to reach where he was. None of it mattered. He felt numb.

“The shelf life on every label…”

“Looks pretty tasty to me, and I’m not that…”

“His Highness sensed no spells here that could…”

“…strange…”

“…the shipment of victuals to other cities…”

“So you say about the lure…”

“…more people…”

“Barracks? As a variant…”

“…if they’d pay a heed…”

“…possibilities of...”

“…we must…”

“…I…”

Settled on the bare floor, his feet seemed almost blue. Dark veins snaking deep under his skin and farther, in the cracks in the stone. Frost had filled them first and was gradually climbing up his limbs. Touching the ground with his whole sole was an abnormal experience. Usually he barely grazed the floor with his toes. There was just enough height to provide him some adhesion but far from allowing him to bear his weight comfortably. It was left to his wrists alone. But now he stood on the ground with both feet firmly landed. He felt how cold the floor was. Although he didn’t feel cold.

Or maybe he did, but it was not the proper form of a cold. Angelgard was cold. In comparison with Angelgard, the floor was not.

Why wasn’t he in Angelgard?

_Why had he been there in the first place?_

“You got bored too?”

Noctis looked into his face from where he put his jaw on Ardyn’s shoulder, asking him something. The warmth of his body surrounded Ardyn all at once and was as unforeseen as it was appreciated: Noctis’ chest pressed against his back, his hands crossed over his front, both his sides in the trap of the strong arms and his ear tickled by the hair. He was smiling, and Ardyn didn’t understood why but smiled in return. From many abstruse things, that one didn’t raise any doubts in him. He knew exactly what he should do – adore Noctis’ beam and his loose hug. And he did, with the unbridled sense of relief to finally be in the right place. Ardyn’s skin tingled where Noctis connected to it through the fabric, but it was the wanted, enlivening spark of stimulation square to his core.

“Yeah, about that,” Gladio’s voice suddenly hammered through the water barrier, and Ardyn realized he was talking very loudly and solely with him and Noctis. He did not elaborate but maintained a strained expression as if expecting something from them. Ardyn nudged the feathery mop of Noctis’ hair with his nose, urging him to react on their common behalf, but the growing aggravation of Gladio did not seem to faze him. 

He thought he heard a quiet sigh, and then Ignis started squeezing Gladio and Prompto out of the room from their backs, “Our guests should be here in no time. We shan’t make them wait. _Or_ embarrass ourselves in their presence.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ardyn ruefully let Noctis disengage their bodies. Without him the largest part of the warmth was gone, though he still had his blanket. “Only the presentable look with the stick in the ass… What, you’re staying with the cakes?” His question was addressed to him, Ardyn realized. He shook his head and hurriedly retrieved his place beside Noctis. 

He had to focus, Ardyn thought as he and Noctis caught up with the other three. He was afraid they had another punishing hike in plans, the kind that made him dreaded if the castle stretched on and on with no end, but that time the destination point was situated remotely close to their previous staging post. 

The patter of their steps was exceeded by the groan as the massive door let them in. The new room resembled an amalgamation of the ballroom and the canteen in the shape of such opulence that made Ardyn’s jaw slacken. Both the floor and the ceiling reflected the shapes of the objects like mirrors, and Ardyn felt dizzy walking between them – the room threatened to knock down his sense of equilibrium. There was a long, ponderous table in the center of the room that extended so far to sit at least the small delegation. The long windows on the opposite wall casted shiny glints on its surface.

It was long since he had seen the wealth of that magnitude. Once again he amazed who the castle belonged to. He doubted any of the noble families he knew could afford the estate so immense and rich. 

Ardyn glimpsed Noctis standing at the top of the table. He caressed the wooden etchings, and despite the dust gathered on his hand, he smiled lightly and rubbed his fingers together. Ardyn thought he looked nostalgic. He remembered how his friends called him by the royal titles. Before he considered them as another joke featured their interaction but he was not so sure anymore. They called him His Majesty. Only the king was addressed in such a manner. Reining in the awkwardness of his question, Ardyn asked, “Is it yours?”

Noctis’ gaze dwelled on his pinch for a little more, and then he looked around. He nodded. “I hardly believe it myself. Everything has changed so much… It’s nice to come back.”

“It’ll be even better if you help along!” Prompto admonished him from the opposite corner of the room. His figure was mostly lost in the folds of heavy curtains. With the visible difficulty, he extricated himself from the trap, sputtering from the dirt. “Be useful for once and, I don’t know, flip the chairs. Give a hand to the big guy.”

Gladio banged chairs from the table to the floor and picked up the fallen, managing to do so in the most grouchy silence possible. He approximately got through a third of the one side of the table. Ardyn wondered who exactly they were waiting for. There were oodles of seats.

“Huuuh? Shouldn’t I spare myself from manual labour? Your words,” grunted Noctis, displeased with their pointed glances.

“You had your sweet good nap, now it’s time to limber up a bit.” Ardyn flinched from the loud _bam_.

“We certainly can’t let our King have his joints stiffen. You may join Gladio or us with Prompto.” The latter still fought with the curtains. Thanks to his and Ignis’ efforts, the afternoon light showed how actually dusty the room was. The gust of wind rushed inside when he yanked open the window, nearly tearing apart his arm in the process. Noctis did not seem keen to join. “Or, you can busy yourself with arraying boxes of potions. I have an inkling we might need them…”

“I’m in.”

Ardyn watched how everyone but he was engaged in the various activities. No one told him he needed to participate but he did not feel at ease doing nothing. He tried to affix to Gladio, but he immediately doubled the efforts as well as the speed of lifting the chairs, and Ardyn was not that obtuse to not get the hint. He trotted to Ignis but before he would have said a word, the man assured that two people were more than enough to aerate the canteen, and Prompto had improved his skills in dealing with the drapes. Noctis, as it was suggested, produced boxes with green vials from his Armiger and rowed them on the table; there was not much Ardyn could assist him with.

“Ack!” Noctis’ yelp of surprise crossed out his last thought. Not seeing the path under the crate in his hands, he crashed his foot against the large cupboard, grabbing the corner for balance. One of the bottles fell out and rolled down in Ardyn’s direction, fortuitously not damaged.

Looking at the crouching Noctis and the bottle, at the bottle and back at Noctis, Ardyn decided to take the phial first – it seemed important. He squatted and darted his hand to the bottle but it stubbornly rolled along the smooth floor, farther and farther away from Ardyn. He kept chasing it, half on hunkers, until it finally bumped against the obstacle and halted. Ardyn readily snatched it. Only then he took a closer look to what blocked his sight.

He was pretty positive there should not be the pair of high boots standing idly in the dining room, but right now he stared at the ones. After a moment the second pair joined. Then it was three pairs. Then he lost count of the incoming boots that flooded his field of view. Very slowly, Ardyn raised his head.

His gaze was met with two splinters of ice. Transfixed to the spot, he peered into two tiny slits of black that seemed to dilate each passed second. It took him some time to realize it was the man’s eyes. And there was something in them. Something too familiar to what Gladio shared but fiercer. He saw many stares like that to know it boded him misery. The old man remained silent and immobile but his eyes widened ever so slightly. The last made Ardyn scared out of his wits. 

The man took a step forward, and Ardyn shrank back right away. If wanted, he could not miss the way the man’s hand slided to his belt. To the hilt of the long sword. The sudden sizzle exploded in his ears; he clutched the bottle to his chest too vigorously and it got smashed in his hand. He did not feel pricking. He barely felt anything except for the rampant need to flee. But he could not stand or shift a muscle. However, when the man started to move on him unhindered, Ardyn crawled back despite fear.

“Sir,” the man on the left said. His face was twisted like in agony. But Ardyn knew it was not agony. The man with the icy eyes, the man on his side and all others behind him, all of them stared right at him with the same contorted mask of the face. Their hands were on their belts, on the swords and daggers and maces and—

“Say a word, sir.”

He wanted to say _Please don’t_. He said it before countless times, but not once was he heard. He did not know why it should save him now. He still had to try if it was the only thing that might keep him from harm. Looking upward, striving to utter his plea, he saw the man’s lips twitched and cracked open, but the sound came from behind:

“Marshal!”

Ardyn did not dare to turn away from the man in lead and he did not either even when the people in black around him casted cheers and smiles to Ardyn’s back. He hoped Gladio, who shouted ‘Marshal’, would come to his help. He, or Ignis, or Prompto. He hoped anyone, anybody would help him. Help him. _Please help him_.

Hadn’t he suffered enough?

He shutted his eyes close as the man rushed forward and grabbed him by his neck. The next second he was off the floor, his back collided with the hard edge but the hand on his throat prevented him from crying out. He heard the faint _zheen_ of the sheath but pain did not follow.

“Cor, put him down.”

Ardyn shuddered from the sound of that calm voice so close to him. It alone spurred him to pry his eyelids open and, just like he expected, Noctis was there, in front of him, radiating confidence and safety that brought Ardyn’s heart aflutter. But the original delight to see him devolved to panic: _Noctis would be hurt because of him_. Ardyn opened his mouth to warn him but then he saw the man with the icy eyes did nothing to get rid of Noctis’ palm on his right wrist, the exact wrist connected with the sword hilt. Ardyn risked a glance higher and gasped from the sight of his face.

The look of vulnerability set deep in his aged features, making the sharpness of his eyes relent almost to the teary blur. Ardyn did not think ‘Cor’ remembered about his grip on his neck but Noctis did. With a tight smile, he said again, “Put him down.” 

Cor unheld him without hesitation. Ardyn slumped off but managed to catch himself. It became very quiet, he did not hear recent talks and glees. Everyone, every single person in the room looked at Noctis. Cor looked too. As if not realizing it fully, he outstretched his hand towards Noctis and wheezed just under his breath. To Ardyn’s ears, it resembled Noctis’ name. But Cor never got to touch him as he so intended, instead his hand dropped and rigor returned to his face.

Cor shot up straight with his head high and a tight fist over his chest.

“Your Majesty,” he announced in the strong drawl and bowed to Noctis’ waist. The people in black behind him did the same in one seamless motion. For the first time in a while, Ardyn felt like breathing when they left their weapons.

Noctis approached still bent Cor and placed the palm on his shoulder. His smile grew more relaxed as he slightly pushed against his stiff pose, indicating for the man to straighten up. “I’m glad to see you alive and well, Cor.”

Cor grinned at him awkwardly. As if his visage was not used to slack off its invariable scowl. “Likewise, my lord. Though,” his tone dropped several octaves to a whisper, “I haven’t expected to meet you again.”

“Your Majesty,” the young man who called Cor ‘Sir’ interrupted. Both his voice and his fingers trembled. “Is that… Is that really you?”

“What, did I really change that much since we’ve last met…” Noctis squinted. “Furio, right?”

‘Furio’ bursted into tears and laughter at the same time. Like that, he was not intimidating at all, just a man, almost a boy, who was joyous to be recognized by, Ardyn assumed, someone very important to him. He could relate to the boy: his feelings were the same when Noctis called him by his name.

Furio appeared to want to say more but was shoved aside by the exuberantly looking girl. She hopped right up to Noctis’ front, causing him to make two steps backwards. Objections exploded from the side of Cor’s allies but she did not seem to notice. “Hi, King Noctis! I’m Jae, Crownsguard Jae Sabana, well, Glaive now. Pleasure! First of all, how did you disperse daemons? I’ve checked the perimeter but saw no one, not a single ahriman underground or yojimbo outside. Is it somehow linked with your title King of Light, ya? That would be logical. Okay, second, do you have to perform any rituals to keep the sun up and if we can participate? Because my skin needs vitamin D, and I need my serotonin and will be friggin’ happy to contribute. Next, what’s your immediate plan as a ruler of Lucis or, sorry, Eos? Should we call you the Dawnbringer? Folks from the crew managed to come up with nothing more original, so I…”

Her prattle wedged in just as sudden as she did and completely disorientated Ardyn already after the first point. He gave up trying to keep up with her and instead switched to Noctis, who blinked befuddled just like Ardyn felt himself. The people in the background froze with painful countenances, some hid faces in their hands; Ardyn thought they looked funny. He liked that better.

When ‘Jae’ reached point eighth and obviously had more in store, Noctis caught her flying hands, submitting her to silence. Ardyn was afraid he was going to berate her and felt sorry for the lively girl: despite speaking profusely, she did not seem to be a bad person. Lo and behold, Noctis gifted her the most charming smile of his, and Ardyn, again, could not _not_ share the reaction that was imposed on people after Noctis’ acts of grace. The girl blushed, taking in his every word. 

“It’s my pleasure to see the hard times didn’t exterminate thirst for knowledge in people. And some of them may be even hungrier than others.” He gripped her hands tighter, smiled wider, and the red on her cheeks deepened. “However, we have tasks at hand that demand our concentrated attention on each one after another, strictly structured and measured. I dare not be the center of that reconstruction when it was and always will be people who make the new day real. In reality, all my accomplishments wouldn’t have happened without you. So if you have something to offer, I suggest you come to your comrades, your brothers in arms, first. They deserve your genius no less and maybe even more than me. But as soon as we regain our feet on the ground, I will be delighted to listen about your ideas in my office – in private. The initiative youth like you may be exactly what we need to build our kingdom upon dust…. Is it alright for you, Lady Sabana?”

Ardyn worried something was wrong with Jae’s blood circulation – a human’s face should not be that darkly flushed in the normal state. Although the girl did not show signs of discomfort, quite the opposite, if a word could have described her whole posture, it would have been intoxication. “L-lady— Yes! I’m totally cool with it!” she squeaked and, after a breath, continued uncharacteristically modestly, “Please, forgive me my impatience. I lived to see the day when I’m able to tell you that, we all couldn’t think to dream of more, so… Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

Noctis’ hands were connected with hers for a moment longer. After a couple of barely tangible squeezes he let go and turned to face the group of people in black. “My words are intended to all of you, guys.”

The dozen of men and women peered into his face with the vehemence of a beggar entreating for that one last coin that would end their misery. It was hard to tell what exactly they felt just by their expressions, but the glimmer in their eyes spoke everything one needed to know. 

“Let’s make things work, together. We’ll try our best: the team of veterans in dealing with the Apocalypse... and one sluggard newbie king.” Noctis laughed in the expectant silence, and someone twitched towards him in an abrupt movement, stopping themselves in the last second. He saw it too, and his last words merged with the deafening exhale of each one in the room: 

“If you don’t mind the deadweight like me, of course.”

Noctis stood separately from everyone, but in the blink of an eye the screaming, laughing and crying mass surrounded him like a safe cocoon. Wildly spinning his head, accepting every handshake and hug, answering the incessant flow of questions or mere exclamations, Noctis was the calm, solid center of gravity in the room. His radiance caught on the people’s faces in the shape of dazzling, happy smiles.

It was not a surprise Ardyn found himself attracted to that light like it was destined for him to be where Noctis was. If he unwinded his mind, he could practically hear the sonorous clacking of brilliants that Noctis’ entity generously scattered around. He thought, distantly, whether it was what philosophers had in mind preaching about the musica universalis.

Although it _was_ a surprise when he could not go to Noctis, closer and tighter, just like his instincts urged him, but instead he was stuck in one place. The split of a second panic overfilled him until he remembered the previous incident with the same situation. There was no curse except for his lanky body, with which he was able to deal on his own that time. With the same thought Ardyn sighed and turned around to unhitch his rags only to spike himself full-bodily on the cold-biting gaze.

As it had proven, to escape Cor’s eyes were no less hopeless than his grip, which digged into Ardyn’s shoulder straight to the bone. And his finger seemed to embed in deeper and deeper at Ardyn’s futile efforts to wriggle out. Just when he gave in and resigned to the inevitable, Cor’s glaciers left him; the hand remained nonetheless.

“Kingsglaive, ten-hut!” Cor ordered, his tone barely audible in all the bustle, but as the last consonant was rapped the voices fell quiet at once. The atmosphere of pure joy was obliterated in mere seconds when people started to unleash their weapons. Their tips, each and every, were pointed at the single person. Locked at the eye of the storm, at the peak of everyone’s odium, Ardyn felt his sins exposed as never in his memory. The sins he was not aware of.

“Your Majesty, don’t get it as an offense or that I’m not glad to see you,” Cor said, “but I assume you forgot your _main_ purpose. It’s too soon to celebrate.” His sword was not far from joining his inferiors.

“Trust me, I know about my _purpose_ ,” Noctis elbowed his way through the wall of unresisting guardians to stand in front of Ardyn, “much _more_ than anyone could have. And if someone should judge my capability, then it won’t be _you_. Or do you put yourself above the divine?”

Despite the iron-like hold on his upper body, Ardyn shuddered from the fright of foreign origins. The second ago Noctis sparkled and fluttered, and now he was just angry. Ardyn bent under his wrath, albeit not being the target of it. And by the loosened hand on his shoulder, he was not the only one to hesitate.

“I said it before and will repeat myself only once. Put Ardyn down, Marshal. That’s an order from your King.”

No one reacted to that. The people in black exchanged uncertain glances but Cor remained immovable behind him. Ardyn just wanted it to be over. To not be in plain view for once. To hide in the darkest of the dark where no one would find him for eons. The place where Noctis’ rage did not exist.

“Cor, do what he says,” out of blue it was Gladio who broke off the trepidation. He rubbed his neck, looking at nothing in particular. “Remember I told ya it’s worth seeing? Well, it’s that.” He gestured vaguely. “There’s a lot to muse about.”

“Seriously, Cor, we all don’t understand the slightest heck what’s going on, but _don’t you make a scene now,_ ” Prompto hissed, appearing from the other side, and finally his deadly glares were reserved not for Ardyn.

“Marshal, please listen to Noctis. We keep the situation under control.” Ignis contributed too. The gentle hem he used in speaking with Noctis was present in his speech. “Tell the glaives to lower their weapons. It’s alright, really.” 

He did not look convinced. But maybe it was the common persuasion or maybe it was Noctis’ unyielding resolution, but eventually Cor caved in. He croaked, the throat seized, “Arms down.”

The rustle of sheathed weapons followed without missing a beat. With that, Cor released him and made a step forward. He lowered Noctis’ friends with equally intense stares before telling him, “Then let’s go and have a talk you need. My King.”

Noctis allowed himself to ease the tension in his body through a soundless breath. His eyes were smiling when he reached Ardyn with them. Without the blanket, the comfort of his support was more than sufficient. Maybe Noctis would let him lean on his side again and slumber peacefully… Ardyn felt heavy and exhausted as if not having the smallest break before.

Triumph at the bottom of Noctis’ gaze did not last long: 

“Without him.”

With no inner power left to be agitated, Ardyn realized there was just one person Cor could imply by saying that but he still believed in better. It would be easier to rely on Noctis. Noctis had the voice and the authority and his light. And Ardyn had Noctis. He didn’t need more. Noctis wouldn’t let them be separated. The thought brought him the hint of serenity.

“Noct, wait, Noct,” Prompto fussed in front of him in the attempt to slow down his rush to Cor. The latter didn’t move a bit from his trajectory. Prompto whispered, “Listen, you have to do it.”

“I don’t. Ardyn stays with me,” Noctis replied loud enough for everyone. 

“The Accursed, you mean,” Cor corrected him. Ardyn didn’t understand him and honestly didn’t try to.

“He is not dangerous!” Noctis screamed, and it sounded far too faint for him compared to how it probably should have been. Noctis screamed. And then for some reason Noctis looked at Ardyn. It was nice to be seen by Noctis but something was off with him. He thought maybe Noctis expected him to do something. Ardyn didn’t know what. He felt sad when Noctis turned from him. He wished Noctis looked more at him as if he was happy, not worried.

“Then we can leave him to glaives without risks,” the older man, again. Ardyn waited for Noctis to say something too but he didn’t. Noctis looked even more worried. Ardyn didn’t understand why Noctis was worried. He thought Noctis should lie and sleep more. Every time Ardyn felt bad he sought sleep until his worries and pain disappeared. In fact, he kind of felt sleepy now. He wanted to advise Noctis to sleep with him to make things better. He was confused why he couldn’t say it.

“It’s just one talk, Noct,” the other man with scars on his face said. He touched Noctis. Did it mean Ardyn could touch Noctis too if he wanted? And he wanted to. “If you want us to calm down, then chill the fuck out first.” The way the man with scars on his face talked was funny. And crude. Ardyn hoped Noctis didn’t mind.

Then Ardyn was slightly confused with who spoke when. Everything was too fast.

“How do you want us to believe you without a proof?”

“Stand by your word, Noctis. If he’s not dangerous as you make it sound.”

“Leave him alone for a godsdamn minute.”

“Your Majesty, we will take care of the Accur… of him for you.”

“We’ll be right behind the wall.”

“Okay, fine!”

Oh. The last one was Noctis. Ardyn recognized him. Just as he thought about it, Noctis was near him. Noctis led Ardyn a little sideways. Did Noctis avoid his eyes? Ardyn wanted to see the blue of Noctis’ eyes. They were pretty, no, beautiful. Noctis stopped and Ardyn did as well. Noctis pushed him but he didn’t fall, he sat on the chair instead. It was soft. And now he was lucky to see Noctis’ blues when they were so close to his own face. Noctis’ voice was close too.

“Be a good boy. I’ll come back soon. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ardyn said without thinking. He furrowed after. What did ‘come back soon’ mean? Why should Noctis return if he was there?

“Just sit there and wait for me. Everything will be alright.”

Ardyn relaxed a bit. Noctis said everything would be alright. The chair was really comfortable, he noticed. If he should sit there, he supposed he liked it.

Then Noctis was no longer close to him but a little farther away. Then it was not little. Then Noctis was very far away. Ardyn lost sight of Noctis at some point. Noctis said he needed to wait for him so Ardyn waited. He counted two minutes. The chair was soft but Noctis’ hands were softer. He added another minute and thirty three seconds. Maybe thirty two, he wasn’t sure. Ardyn looked around.

_Where is Noctis?_

Noctis hadn’t told how long Ardyn should wait but he thought he waited enough. It was time for Noctis to return, like he promised. He did promise, right? Noctis had to return to him, return to Ardyn.

Time passed. Ardyn was very, very worried. No, it was wrong. He was _scared_. Where was Noctis? Why wasn’t Noctis with him? Noctis couldn’t lie to him. But Ardyn couldn’t wait more either. It was too long. It was too bad without Noctis. Ardyn doubted he could sleep it off. It was too bad, and he was too scared to close his eyes.

Close his eyes. Maybe if he closed his eyes, Noctis would be with him as if nothing happened. It was almost like a sleep. After all, he closed his eyes. It had to work.

Ardyn opened his eyes.

He looked around.

Noctis wasn’t there.

Oh.

_Noctis isn’t here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WD: Ardyn is left alone with glaives. What can possibly go wrong?


End file.
